


dancing on the blades (you set my heart on fire)

by kishere



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, discussion of phil's piss kink, figure skating, figure skating AU, handjobs, yuri on ice inspired au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 106,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishere/pseuds/kishere
Summary: Dan Howell is an ice skater in England, a non power player in the world of competitive ice skating. Phil Lester is the greatest ice skater to come out of England in the past decade, part of a family legacy. When Dan is offered a spot at Phil's family gym, he learns what he was missing the most to be the best ice skater he could be.Or: the yuri on ice inspired auFirst Place Best Work In Progress in the Phanfic Awards 2020
Relationships: Charlie Casey/Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Original Female Character(s), Dan Howell/Original Male Character(s), Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 312
Kudos: 451





	1. vivaldi "winter"

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to [counting2fifteen](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) for betaing and to my discord group for the constant support and hype
> 
> also hype to lou, my beta, for creating a GORGEOUS playlist which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we meet dan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: vomit/emetophobia and alcohol consumption

Well, Dan thought as he touched down (placing his whole massive hand on the ice to prevent himself from falling down) on his final jump of the program, there went any chance of making the podium, much less placing in the top ten. He recovered gracefully enough and skated towards the middle of the ice, performing a flying sit spin. It was one of his signature moves on the ice, something his long legs allowed him to get massive air on with ease. Nailed that, he thought sarcastically, as he spun upwards to give his final pose as the music came to an end.

He heard a few people cheer and clap but it was nothing like the thunderous applause that had broken across the stadium when Phil Lester had skated before him. It seemed like everyone in the rink had cheered for Phil. Not that the other skater didn't deserve it, Dan thought, remembering the way that Phil had seemed to fly through the air in multiple combination jumps instead of missing almost every jump in the program. Phil had placed 13th at World's last year and seemed to be England's chance at pushing their way back into one of the top ice skating countries of the world.

Dan skated over to the opening to the Kiss and Cry, where he probably would be crying if he was able to guess his score right. His coach, Lena, sat next to him, gripping his arm as they waited for his scores to come in. Dan focused on putting his skate guards on his skates instead of paying attention to where the judges sat for the event. When he was done with his task, he shut his eyes and threw thoughts into the universe. He wasn't a religious person by any stretch of the imagination, but he was throwing it out into the universe for some fluke like someone getting popped for drugs in their system. Not a harsh one or anything, just like, some weed or-

"Daniel Howell," the voice on the intercom announced, causing Dan to open his eyes,"81.56."

That was nearly ten points under Dan's personal best for this piece. He tried not to let it show on his face how disappointed in himself he was, but even he could see the tears prickling at the corner of his eyes in the giant monitor across the rink. He brought his sleeve up and viciously wiped away at his eyes and commanded himself not to cry.

"It's okay Dan, you'll get them next season," Lena tried to reassure him but everything had gone fuzzy in his ears. Was this shock? Was he going into shock? No, no, he was well aware of what he was doing but he felt disconnected from his body, like those days earlier in the season where he wanted to lie in bed and stare at a blank wall for hours on end. Maybe if he hadn't done that he wouldn't be sitting in the Kiss and Cry with a fucking 81.56 and-

"Daniel," Lena said gently, touching his shoulder. "It's time to go."

"Okay," he whispered, following her out of the Kiss and Cry to where the rest of the competitors were watching. Dan had performed in the middle of this qualifying event, so he still had to sit through about fifteen more performances. Oh, how he wanted the earth to swallow him whole, especially when he met Phil Lester's eyes.He's pretty sure he saw the kindest form of pity in those eyes. It was a look of “ _You tried your best, Daniel, but maybe you’re getting a little too old to keep thinking you can compete like the rest of us. Maybe you should re-sit your A -levels and go to uni like your father wanted. We just want what’s best for you._ ” Or maybe he was projecting. Either way, he tilted his head down after that exchange and focused on his right knee which kind of throbbed from landing on it funny during the practice section of this morning. 

Dan couldn't begin to tell you what the other competitors did on the ice but he heard each score, every one scoring higher than him. He nearly cried in relief as they announced that the event was over about an hour and a half later. He couldn’t wait to go home, sink into a bath and forget about how horrible he had done today except- shit. Lena said they were staying the night here so they could attend a small meet and greet with the other skaters. Dan didn’t want to go. He wanted to hole up in his hotel room and maybe have himself a little pity party. A big pity party. A party where he cried. But no, he had to go to a party with all the competition he had majorly lost to today and pretend he was okay. He said as much to Lena on the way back to the hotel.

“Dan, c’mon,” Lena said exasperatedly in the backseat of a taxi. “I know today was a bit of a disappointment-”  
  
“Understatement of the year,” Dan mumbled under his breath, but not quietly enough if the glare Lena sent him was anything to go by. She was scary for a toothpick thin, 5’3 woman that Dan dwarfed easily.

“-but you have to be a good sport and go. It’ll be good for networking,” Lena said, the unspoken “friendmaking” floating in the air between them. “Besides, I know they’ll have a bit of booze. Season’s over for us, so that means you can let loose on your diet for the night.”

Dan turned his head and eyed Lena, searching her face for a caveat. When she didn’t say anything, Dan relaxed in his seat and let himself mull over his choices. 

Dan had been on a pretty strict diet for the past nine months and if he saw one more unseasoned, sad looking chicken breast and drank more water than he knew how to piss out, he was going to snap. The idea of booze was tempting, not having gotten drunk in nearly six months since his birthday back in June. However, did he really want to be in a room with a bunch of other skaters right now, reminding him that he had placed third to last? He didn’t know most of the other male skaters except for saying “hi”, “good luck”, and “good job” to them at competitions. But maybe he could hide in a corner and eat tiny cocktail snacks and drink.

“Fine,” Dan finally said as they pulled up to the hotel. “But only for the booze.”  
  
“You’re such a boy,” Lena said, ruffling his hair as she got out of the taxi. Dan followed her out with a huff, trying to fix his hair but realized it wasn’t worth it since he was about to go shower anyway. 

He followed Lena into the hotel and to their shared room ( _his family wasn’t rich. Like, they weren’t skint anymore, but sometimes sharing a room was necessary, especially if you were the only pupil competing from a small rink from nowhere_ ), letting Lena have first go at the shower so he could take a nap. She shook him awake about an hour later and said it was his turn, sitting on the bed across from him in a sleek black dress as she pushed some earring into her ears. 

Dan was glad he remembered to pack a proper dress shirt and trousers, even if he had thrown them into his backpack last minute. They were a little wrinkled, but they were clean and smelled okay so Dan considered that a win. He took his clothing into the bathroom and set them on the closed seat of the toilet. He spent a few seconds trying to figure out the hotel taps and turned the water on before undressing, climbing into the tub, and curling into the fetal position to finally letting himself have his little cry.

He emerged from the bathroom about forty-five minutes later, feeling a little cottonheaded but cleaner. He dug through his backpack and cursed when he realised he had forgotten to pack his flat iron.

“Lenaaaa,” he whined. “Can you do my hair?”  
  
“No,” Lena said quickly. She was currently applying something to her eyebrows and making faces in the mirror at the desk across the room. “I’m doing my make-up. Why not wear your hair natural?”  
  
“Because I look like a hobbit,” Dan complained. “I’m going to be a loser hobbit.”  
  
“You’re not a loser,” Lena said calmly. 

“But I am a hobbit,” Dan shot back, causing Lena to snort. 

“No, have you seen yourself? You’re like slenderman,” Lena said, dabbing at her face where she messed up. “But the pomade is in your duffel if you want to do something with your hair.”  
  
Dan grumbled under his breath and dug through his duffel before unearthing the pomade. He made his way back into the bathroom and started trying to get his hair under control. It took him twenty minutes until it started doing something that he was pleased with, and his hair was already starting to curl naturally in the humid air. Dan gave a huff of disgust and stopped trying before he ruined this too.

Why was he doing this again? Oh right, the booze. He wasn’t an alcoholic, but it’s not like he got to party like a normal nineteen year old. And it wasn’t like this would be a normal party like the few he snuck out for when he was sixteen and going through his emo phase. Well, more hardcore emo phase, the thought as he remembered that he had a fringe on most days he had his flat iron. This party would be stuffy and boring and Dan was not looking forward to it at all.

He went and flopped on the bed, face forward, ignoring Lena tsking about how he was wrinkling his clothes. He practiced his breathing exercises, inhaling the scent of the thin comforter and feeling himself calm down his racing head. 

Lena announced she was ready about ten minutes later.

“You look nice,” Dan said, looking her over.It wasn’t often he saw her in make-up and she looked beautiful, but Dan felt that saying that would be crossing a line, even for as close as they were for a coach and student relationship. Sometimes, Dan felt like she was more of an older sister to him than a coach. “I like the eyeliner.”

“Thanks,” Lena said. “I like that shirt.”  
  
“I should hope so, you picked it out,” Dan joked. It was a light blue shirt that Dan would have never picked for himself (he was more a black/monochrome kind of guy), but Lena had insisted that he needed a few shirts in his wardrobe that “didn’t make him look like he was going to a funeral.” He argued he had white in his wardrobe too, but Lena had insisted so Dan had caved and bought the shirt. 

“I know,” Lena said breezily as they exited the hotel room. The walk down to the hotel’s “ballroom” (Dan thought it looked closer to a place where they would hold an AA meeting minus the folding chair circle) was brief and the minute Dan walked inside he already wanted to leave. All over the place was a mix of groups and Dan didn’t even know where to begin with how uncomfortable he was with that. Lena leaned over and squeezed his shoulder. 

“Remember, networking,” Lena said, in a tone that sounded perfectly cheerful, but Dan took it as a threat. He nodded and took off as soon as Lena let go of his arm. He started at the snack table, piling a small plate full of room temperature cheese and crackers. He’d take anything; he was starving since he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He grabbed a glass of something from the bar. He knew it was a red wine, but he didn’t know what kind, all he knew was it was alcohol and the first of many. After retrieving his sustenance, he scurried over to a corner where he proceeded to people watch. 

He finished his glass of wine fast. Too fast almost, chugging it before he had even touched any of the tidbits on his plate. He went back to the line for the drinks and got another glass of wine, ignoring the slightly judgemental look for being back in line less than ten minutes after his first glass. He took off again for his corner, dodging around the groups of his peers. He drank the other glass a little slower before diving into the cheese and cracker on his plate. He felt like a feral animal, hunched over the plate, not even necessarily enjoying the food but eating it nonetheless. The crackers dried out his mouth so he drank his wine to keep it moist and started a cycle. He would get a drink, eat a few crackers, drink some more and before he knew it he was six glasses deep. The bartender was definitely judging him by now but he also hadn’t cut Dan off either. 

He had just grabbed his seventh glass when he walked by a group of people talking about leaving and going to a club a few blocks away. Dan stopped on the outskirts of the group and debated bursting in on the conversation with them when one of the skaters caught his eye and waved. It was PJ Liguori, a skater who Dan thought was overly chatty but not a bad guy. He always had the most bizarre routines but didn’t seem to care. As someone who cared so much, Dan was jealous of the ease in which PJ would skate to bizarre music and have choppy step sequences. 

“Dan,” PJ shouted like Dan wasn’t five feet from him. He walked across the huddle to Dan, reached out and put a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “Did you just get here, mate?”

“Er,” Dan didn’t want to lie but he also didn’t want to explain he had been successfully hiding for the past two hours either so he nodded.

“Brill, anyway, a couple of us,” PJ said, jerking a thumb backwards towards a group of males and a few females, “were thinking of going to a club. Did you want to come with us?”

Dan was frozen. Sure, he was hoping to maybe go, but he also didn’t know if he really wanted to go or just wanted that sense of belonging for a moment in time. He looked over at the group and noticed that Phil Lester was among them and felt his face heat up (whether from embarrassment or the wine, he didn’t know) and he shook his head. 

“Er, no, I don’t think I should. My coach wouldn’t like it,” Dan lied, emboldened by the wine coursing through his system. Lena would be ecstatic if he went out with other kids his age. In fact, Lena could see her out the corner of his eye, watching him interact with PJ. She gave him a thumbs up which made him roll his eyes. He realizes that must have looked bad in the moment since PJ still had his hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, my coach was being embarrassing.”

“Oh, they’re here?” PJ asked, looking like a shark that smelled blood. “We can ask. I’m good with parents...er. Parent figures. They love me.”

“I don’t think,” Dan started before, PJ’s hand went lower and grabbed his arm. 

“No, no, it’ll be mental tonight, you have to come. We’re even managing to drag Phil out and he never comes out with us,” PJ explained. “Now introduce me to your coach.”

Dan sighed in defeat and led PJ over to Lena, hoping to the universe Lena would play along and not say yes. He leaned against PJ when they arrived in front of Lena who looked so proud she could burst. 

“Daniel, who’s this?” Lena asked and Dan could feel the situation spinning wildly out of control. He tried to stand up straight but the room was spinning a little and it was easier to just lean against PJ. PJ didn’t seem to mind.

“Name’s PJ Liguori,” PJ said, holding out his hand to Lena. They shook hands and Dan felt like his fate was doomed. “We were wondering if we might be able to steal Danny here. A couple of us wanted to go to a club and thought Dan could come with us. We understand if you say no but we’re going to be responsible-”  
  
“Danny here is more than able to go,” Lena said, making eye contact with Dan. Dan squirmed under her gaze and turned to look at PJ, who was smirking triumphantly.

“That was easier than I thought,” PJ said as Dan gulped down his glass of wine. He handed the empty glass to Lena, who waved as Dan was dragged away again by PJ, back towards the group. PJ threw up his hands in victory and let out a cheer that someone from the group answered. They were gathering looks from across the room and Dan could feel himself going more red. He’s pretty sure his red patch was on full display and he reached up and undid the first button of his shirt to try and cool down. 

“We were successful,” 

“We march,” another skater, Chris Kendall if Dan recalled right, declared and Dan was pulled out of the ballroom and into the city. It was loud outside, the rush of traffic and other groups walking down the street overlapping on each other. 

The January chill seeped into Dan's bones since he hadn’t been given time to go get his jacket from his room. He shifted from foot to foot as the group huddled up, waiting for PJ to use Google Maps to find out how to get to the club, much to the teasing from one of the blonde headed girls.

"Are you cold too?" someone asked from Dan's right, causing him to jump at the (what felt like) very sudden presence in his space.

"A little. You?" Dan asked, turning to look at who had spoken and froze when he realized it was Phil Lester.

"Just a bit. They didn't tell me they were going to do this until we got to the ballroom," Phil said, gesturing to what was an outfit similar to Dan's. "I don't know how the girls aren't all cold."

"I know, I mean how do girls do it? Like they just….girls man," Dan faltered because yeah, they all looked good, but Phil had a point. How were they not freezing? Dan was cold and he was usually a furnace and Phil- 

Phil Lester.

His heart gave a small flutter when he looked over at Phil again, feeling himself smile. Because the thing was that Phil was four years older than him and there was a time in his life when he obsessed over Juniors and then Senior skaters and then pro, and Phil's name always came up as one of the best in England and Dan. Well. He always wanted to talk to the other man and ask for some tips. But now wasn't the time, Dan thought with a sigh. “Do you know them?”

"Yeah, we all train together up north. Sheffield," Phil explained, looking at Dan with a smile. Dan remembered that Phil’s parents were known for running the best rink in the country. "Chris, PJ, Sadie, the blonde, and I at least. I think the other people are people PJ just collected like you."

Dan let out a laugh at that and was about to make a joke when PJ announced that he knew the way now and started walking. Dan shuffled behind everyone else, surprised when Phil chose to stay behind with him.

"Where do you train at?" Phil asked, falling into step with Dan easily, his black hair reflecting the streetlights as they walked through London.

"Small rink near Reading, nowhere special," Dan said with a shrug because yeah, the rink wasn't special as far as training national heroes went. But to Dan and his teenage years, that rink was everything to him, not that he'd admit that to Phil, even if his tongue was all but begging to let loose. Is this what his mom meant by alcohol being a social lubricant? Lubricant, what a funny word.

"Reading? Like the music festival?" Phil asked excitedly.

"The very saaaame," Dan slurred out. He had to watch that, he thought. The slurring, not the festival. "I've been a few times. To the festival."

"Really? How was it?"

"It was ah-mazing. I went with some guys from the rink and-," Dan stopped as he bumped into the back of a redheaded girl, apologizing profusely for stepping on her heels. She shot him an annoyed look and started walking faster. How was she doing that in heels, jesus. "We went and it was the grossest experience because it rained. Mud everywhere you could imagine. Only shame was that I got fired from my job at Smasda."

“How did going to a festival lose you your job?” Phil asked with a laugh.

He explained how he had called in sick to Asda the day before but had neglected to warn his mother about it since he had told her he had the weekend off already.

"Okay so, I called in sick to Asda, but obviously I was fine. I just didn’t have anymore time off because of skating. Soooo, I call in and I’m talking graphic. Like I can’t come in because I'm shitting my brains out. My manager is uncomfortable so she drops it and says ‘ _Hope you get better Dan_ ’," Dan finished as Phil finished laughing at his graphic lie he told. "APPARENTLY though, I was so convincing that she calls my house later to check on me, which was really nice of her. She put up with so much from me. Remind me to tell you about the time I nearly got fired for sleeping under a desk. Anyway, my mom picked up the phone and told my manager I was at Reading Festival. Mom called me right after to tear me a new one. The fun I had after was so bittersweet at that point, but still one of the best weekends of my life. Have you ever been to a festival?"

"One time my brother took me to Glastonbury down in Pilton," Phil said after he stopped laughing at Dan. "I don't remember liking anyone but the Beatles guy and-"

"Hold on," Dan said, turning to look at Phil. "Did you just refer to Sir Paul McCartney as ' _the Beatles guy_ '?"

"I forgot his name," Phil started, his voice sounding like a whine, before they heard PJ start shouting at everyone to take out their IDs because they had arrived. Dan and Phil fell into line with the rest of the skaters and showed the bouncer their IDs. As they were ushered in, Dan heard Chris shout something about shots but it was hard to hear over the thumping bass. Phil said something to him but Dan couldn’t hear him over the bass. It didn’t matter since someone grabbed his arm and dragged him away from Phil and towards the bar.

"Well," Dan mumbled, looking back at Phil, his heart giving a small squeeze. "At least there is booze."

And heat, Dan thought what felt like ten minutes later. Were club liminal spaces with no time? Because Dan didn’t know how long it had been since Chris had yelled shots and he had drank and drank and drank. 

Everything was hot but Dan felt like he was melting into a new being in the middle of all these people, his shirt soaked with sweat and tequila that missed his mouth. Someone grabbed on to his hips and he grinded back into them. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back, pleasantly surprised when it landed on shoulder instead of just hanging in midair. Dan pressed his ass backwards, feeling the intake of breath against his back. He didn’t open his eyes but he grinded in place for a few moments before pulling away and dancing with the faceless stranger. 

He’s pretty sure the stranger knew his name but he couldn’t hear the stranger over the boom of the speakers. 

And they were playing Britney, sue him, but Toxic was a fucking banger and deserved all of his attention.

\- 

Dan awoke with a start the next morning. He felt like shit, his head pounding. He smelled a bit like shit. He bolted out of bed and into the bathroom, proceeding to retch into the toilet. When he was done praying to the porcelain god, he rested his forehead against the cool toilet before pulling away when he remembered it was a hotel toilet. God, he doesn’t remember anything after arriving at the club. Well, he remembers getting egged into doing some shots because someone else was buying but he couldn’t say who or how many he did. He groaned loudly as his brain throbbed, trying to remember any details from last night. His head hurt so bad he almost forgot why he was in a hotel room in the first place. Those memories came flooding back but not the memories of last night.

 _Thanks alcohol_ , Dan thought bitterly. He thought it was supposed to help you to forget the bad stuff. He leaned back from the toilet and spread himself on the bathroom floor, lying and staring upright at the ceiling. He was that way for about ten minutes when Lena came and stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“Rough night?” she asked, barely hiding her smirk.

“The roughest,” Dan breathed out. His eyes were still shut and it hurt to talk but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “My aches have aches.”

“But you had fun?”

“Yeah...I think I did,” Dan replied after a moment of thought, vaguely remembering the sound of Britney, but not much else. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to throw up again before we head home.”

“Go for it,” Lena said, wrinkling her nose and exiting the bathroom as Dan began to throw up again.


	2. bach to basics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan goes back to Wokingham

The drive back to Wokingham was okay.

Dan had asked the girl at the checkout desk for a few trash bags in case he felt queasy on the ride home since Lena had the tendency to drive like a deranged Cruella DeVille. It didn't help that Lena needed music to listen to, and normally Dan would be all about that, if his head didn't feel like it was about to split in two at the mere mention of music. After much pleading, she did eventually put it on the classical station, but he's pretty sure it was more out of pure pity than because she wanted to listen to some obscure Bach composition. Surprisingly, he fell asleep at some point, laid across the backseat of Lena's car. He didn't know how long he had slept but when he woke up, the pop music was back on and they were back in Wokingham.

As she pulled up to Dan's nan's house, he stepped out of the car and felt extremely dizzy, not just because he saw his mom's car in the driveway either. He stumbled a bit before leaning back against the stability of the car. He had never been this hungover and he swore the next time he saw any of the northern guys, he was going to keep his distance.

 _If_ he saw them again.

 _If_ he competed again.

Lena got out of the car when she saw him stumble a bit and slowly got his backpack and duffel bag out of the car. She set it on the curb in front of the house and opened up her arms for a hug, which Dan gave.

"Do you want the week off?" Lena asked, her tone going from older sister to coach mode.

Dan thought about it for a minute. The season was over and he didn't have anything to prep for. However, he also didn't want to get rusty or fall into the mood that had overshadowed the beginning of his season this year.

"I'll think about it," Dan said.

"You should go shower," Lena said pulling back, wrinkling her nose.”You reek.”

"You should go sleep; it was a long drive," Dan returned, hoping to kill her with kindness. Lena rolled her eyes and stepped back.

"Text me if you need anything," she said before heading back into her car. "And I'll see you Monday!"

"I said I'd think about it," Dan shouted after her, letting his face slip into a pout when she just laughed at him. He knew he was probably going to be there Monday morning since he didn’t have anywhere else to be, but he didn’t like it being assumed. He waved after her car before turning to face the house he was practically raised in until he was eight when his parents decided that they were ready to parent. He sighed as he picked up his duffel bag and backpack, digging out his keys from the front pocket of the backpack, before heading to the front door. He unlocked the door and stepped in.

"I'm back," Dan called out, toeing off his shoes in the front entry way and nudging them closer to the wall so they weren't directly in the middle of the walkway.

"We're in the lounge, dear," his nan called back. Dan sighed as he walked into the lounge, setting his bags down near an unused couch. "How was it?"

"Not great," Dan muttered before clearing his throat and saying, "I placed 27th out of 30."

The room was dead silent for about thirty seconds.

His nan was the first to speak. "Well love, you'll get them next time."

Dan didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Instead he leaned down and hugged his nan because anything else seemed a little extreme for his nan being supportive. He watched as she wrinkled her nose at him, probably smelling the debauchery he had gotten up to the night before, but bless her for saying nothing. He would most definitely finally help her set up her iPad this weekend.

"Wow," Adrian drawled from the couch he was sprawled on, not looking up from his DS. “Great job.”  
  
“Adrian,” his mother said warningly before looking at Dan. “So are you competing next season?”   
  
“I dunno, mom,” Dan answered honestly.

“Have you given any thought to what your father said? About your exams?“

Dan wanted to be a smartass. Oh, how he wanted to say something mean and caustic because his head hurt and he wanted to take a shower and he wanted a nap. He wanted time to process what had happened instead of being expected to make a decision _right now_. His season just ended about twelve hours ago, he hadn’t even had time to eat breakfast (not that food would stop his roiling stomach). Instead of doing that, though, he sighed and repeated himself. “I dunno, mom.”

“Well, give it some thought?”

“I’ll let you know,” Dan promised, meaning every word. As soon as he figured out what he wanted to do for next season, he would let everyone know, but for now, all he knew was that _this_ season was over. It was over and he had about three months to decide what he wanted to do as far as next season went.

“Hey guys, is it okay if I go take a shower?”

“By all means,” his nan said, eyeing him up and down critically.

"Thank you Nan," Dan said, sounding a bit too grateful for a simple shower, ducking down and picking up his duffel bag to take to the room him and Adrian had been sharing since his parents separation. His dad, the egomaniac he was, had decided that he wanted to keep the house in the divorce, and his Nan had let them move in with her and grandpa.

He was barely out of the room before he could hear his mom and nana start whispering, most likely about him. He sighed and stood in the hallway outside the lounge, wondering what he could pick up from their conversation. Sadly, or maybe for the best, he wasn't able to clearly make out anything except for his name once. He took off down the narrow hallway towards the bedroom they were sharing and dumped his duffel on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed to deal with later.

He grabbed a pair of sweats and a shirt out of his drawer and walked over to the bathroom, wrinkling his nose at the rose scented potpourri that seemed to saturate the room. He stripped quickly and looked in the mirror, blinking when he noticed a bruise on his clavicle.

Where had that come from? Had that been there the whole time and he just hadn't noticed it this morning? He used the time the water took to heat up to examine the rest of his body, finding another few bruises on his legs but those were probably from stumbling into things drunk. They weren't nearly as exciting as the idea of a _hickey_. Dan stared at it a moment longer before reaching into the medicine cabinet and popping a few paracetamol. The sound of the water hitting the tub was echoing in the bathroom and sounded closer to a thunderstorm than a pleasant rainfall.

He stepped into the tub and stood under the spray, sighing in relief at the temperature. Showers were one of Dan's favorite things, a reward for hard work after grueling practice or an escape from his parents arguing, since the water would mostly drown it out. Sure, he would love to take a bath, since it would actively soothe his muscles after a long day, but someone always pounded on the door just when he was getting comfortable and complained he was taking too long.

Plus, he thought as he stared numbly at the water going down the drain, he could emote in here. It's not that Dan was emotionless, it's just that school had taught him that emotions were best kept to private spaces. He sighed and tipped his head back, taking water right to the face and sputtering at the sudden shock. The rest of his shower was finished mechanically and quickly, a contrast to yesterday where he had sobbed and railed and sniffled as he scrubbed shampoo in his hair. Today he was… desaturated. Like he felt like him, just less so, like someone had turned him into a paler, smaller version of himself. Was it the hangover or the pain of loss? Was it the guilt because he wasted his parents’ money to compete and not win? He wished he could have brought home a medal to show them, even a bronze one, to show that everything his family had sacrificed was _worth_ something.

That _he_ was worth something.

He got out of the shower and dried down quickly, dressing slowly. He pressed a thumb to the hickey on his clavicle once before covering it up with a shirt from a competition two years ago; he had placed 5th there.

Dan padded out of the bathroom and back down the hall to his bedroom. He moved the duffel bag to the closet, figuring he'd deal with it later, but he kept his backpack by his bed, tucked behind the ladder Adrian used to get to the top bunk. Dan crawled into bed and curled up on his side, facing the wall. He was fine, he thought as a few tears escaped his eyes and went down the side of his face. 

Everything was fine.

-

Two days later and Dan was starting to suspect everything was not fine. He hadn't moved from his bed unless absolutely forced to by biology or his mom saying she needed him to do a quick chore. He knew that staring at a wall and intermittently, silently crying probably wasn't a good sign but today was Monday.

He didn't want to go to the rink. What did he have to work on? A program he couldn't reuse next season? Choreographing a new one for a season he might not compete in anyway? Lena could also put him to work at the front desk for most of the day so he could earn some rink time for the week, but he didn't even know if he wanted it.

That was a lie.

He _wanted_ to skate. He always _wanted_ to skate, but he felt heavy in a way he could barely begin to describe. It felt like each emotion (pain, failure, disappointment, lossloss _loss_ ) was its own weighted blanket that was being wrapped around him so he couldn't move. All he could do, all he wanted to do (even more than skate), was lay in bed and replay every failed jump, every missed turn, every over-rotation and under-rotation of his miserable performance.

However, Dan thought blearily as his alarm went off again at 4:30 am, ice skating was a cruel mistress and Lena her taskmaster. He hadn't been on his phone much (a lie; he had scrolled through twitter, looking for any mention of him and found himself in a compilation video of bad jumps from the competition), so Lena would be expecting him. Even though his skate time was officially at seven am now that he wasn’t in school, he and Lenahad a system where he would get there around the time she used the ice privately and warm up with her for the day. Dan knew it was blatant favoritism but-

"Get uppppp," Adrian whined from the bunk above him. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Shut up," Dan muttered, talking to both his alarm and Adrian. He didn't move to turn off his alarm.

"Shut it off," Adiran said, taking a pillow and throwing it into Dan's "cave", nearly pegging him in the face. "It's been thirty minutes."

"Okay, okay," Dan griped, finally shutting off the alarm. He laid in bed for a while longer, not wanting to get up. He laid there for five minutes before finally feeling the holy spirit of ice skating (or the fear of Lena, either one) flow through him enough to make him upright.

"Finally. Dick," Adrian muttered, yelping when Dan chucked his pillow back up top. Dan dug his duffel bag out of the closet using his phone light and left the room quickly before Adrian could retaliate.

He crept out of the house and to the front yard, where he stood for a minute, breathing in fresh air. He looked at the clock on his phone and cursed, knowing that now he was most definitely going to be late.

Dan wished he had the energy to jog, but he was saving all that energy for the sprints he was sure he was going to have to do at the rink. He fast-walked the the three miles to the rink in an hour (much longer than if he had been jogging), grunting every few minutes as he adjusted his bag so it would stop smacking against the back of his thighs. It had been a bit since he had walked with his duffel bag, usually leaving his gear in the locker he rented at the rink.Never had he cursed living in bleeding Wokingham more than in that moment, since they didn't have an early bus service like London or even Manchester had.

He arrived at the rink and walked around to the back, opening the nondescript door that was unlocked back there. He went into the small locker room around the corner and changed into his practice uniform, wrinkling his nose at its slightly stale smell. After he put it on, he went through his ten minute off ice stretching routine, making sure to push a little harder than normal since he had been fairly stagnant for two days. He sat on the bench and laced up his skates, keeping the skate guards on. He walked to the actual rink area where Lena was doing lazy loops on the ice. He watched her for a minute before taking off his skate guards and putting them on the edge of the bleachers closest to him and joining her on the rink.

It took her a minute to notice him, but she nearly jumped when she finally noticed him skating towards her.

"Jesus, Daniel, use your words. I'm not young anymore, my heart could give out if you keep scaring me," Lena said, dramatically pressing the back of her wrist to her forehead.

"You're barely thirty Lena, your heart is fine," Dan said with a roll of his eyes.

"Yours may not be after I make you do sprints later," Lena said, making Dan groan. Just because he could do it at the end of practice doesn't mean it felt good doing it then.

“Really, it’ll make your heart better,” Lena said after a few moments, causing Dan to snort.

“What, you’re going to kill me through fitness?”

“Well, no, I guess not,” Lena replied, skating over and flicking him on the forehead. “Stretch out?”

Dan rubbed at his forehead but nodded. “Yeah, I already stretched out in the locker room.”

"Good job," Lena said. "Okay, go warm up a bit. Warning, Rebecca is coming in later."

Dan tried not to groan. A sound must have escaped his throat, though, because Lena raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh? That bad still?"

"She literally won't look at me."

"To be fair-," Lena started before Dan cut her off.

"I know, I know, I make bad decisions," Dan said exasperatedly. Lena flicked his forehead again. “Oi.”

"No, you're a teenager," Lena said, her tone going soft for a second. "But I was still right when I said rink mates shouldn't date."

"You were right," Dan conceded before skating backwards from her. "The usual?"

"The usual," Lena said before skating off to finish warming herself up. Dan rolled his neck before starting to do his usual on stroking warm-up, making sure everything was stretched out. He was so caught up in warming up, he barely noticed when a couple more people showed up on the ice. Dan knew his rink mates but he wasn't close to them, even if they had all attended the same schools and ice skating classes as each other since he was five. He used to be close to Rebecca, until they tried dating for two years and he broke up with her the night before the competition because he couldn’t handle the guilt of continuing to be a shit boyfriend anymore.

Now, as he watched her use the boards to stretch out, he just really missed his closest friend in Wokingham. Because that’s what they were before they tried dating, friends. He really liked her too, feeling an ease with her that came from shared passion for skating and knowing her since childhood.

“Dan, if you’re not moving, you’re not working,” Lena shouted from across the rink, breaking Dan out of his thoughts.

“Yes, coach,” he called back, looking around and finding a circle on the ice to practice his crossovers on since he felt they had looked a little sloppy in competition. 

-

He fell into a routine over the next few weeks, which was good because he couldn’t tell you what he was doing when he wasn’t at the rink. But every morning he woke up early and went to the rink to skate with Lena. After his warm up, he glided aimlessly around the rink for a few hours, joining in for free skating and just...skating. He hadn’t performed his routine since the disastrous competition. He couldn’t tell you if he said anything at any point in those two weeks either, but he knew his nan kept repeating that Dan had “gotten much too quiet.” He couldn’t help it; he was thinking of what he wanted to do for next season, if he even wanted to compete.

He was leaning towards no, but he didn’t want to feel like a failure, having dumped in so much time and money into a sport his body still had years to compete in. Because Dan loved skating, he really did, but he didn’t know if he could keep living through the heartbreak of being mediocre at it.

While he was in that little bubble, he wasn’t expecting Lena to stand in front of him when he was lacing up his skates one day and announce, ”Dan, we’re doing something different today.”

“Oh, did you find a new warm-up to try?”

“No. Today, we’re skating your routines.”  
  
Dan froze in tying up his skates. “Why?”   
  
“Because you’ve been like a sad ghost, just hanging around the rink,” Lena explained, not mincing any words. “I want… no, I _need_ to see some life in you again.”   
  
Dan was silent, his left leg jumping up and down. “But I’m bad at those routines.”   
  
“You had a bad day, but you actually skate them beautifully when you aren’t buried in your own head,” Lena said encouragingly.

Dan knew she wasn’t going to drop the subject so he sighed in defeat and finished tying up his skates. He followed her out to the rink, grimacing as Lena went over to the boombox and loaded up the CD with his songs. 

“Warm up a bit and then we’ll see how you’re looking with your short program,” Lena said, her tone fully coach and no room for arguments. 

Dan sighed but went on the ice and did some warm ups for a bit, includinga couple single jumps, nothing fancy. He _should_ have tried a triple jump (something simple like a toe loop), since he had a few triple jumps in his routine, but he wanted to keep his confidence somewhat intact. He skated to the middle of the ice, letting out a large sigh and shaking his arms to try and relax. He gave them another shake before looking over at Lena and giving her a thumbs up, signalling he was ready to begin.

The first strands of "Winter" by Vivaldi start to play and Dan brings his arms up and back, taking a few steps across the ice. Dan couldn't say what his face looked like but he hoped it was something light and playful, like the beginning part of the music was supposed to make one feel. It was supposed to be a playful breeze, nothing intense, just kicking up the dead leave autumn left behind. He went into a few spins on the ice, his arms constantly spinning to keep up momentum and to show he was a playful breeze. He was the Winter Wind, but even the Wind itself was scared of the first jump in his program, a triple flip.

He turned himself backwards on to his right leg and took off, holding his breath as he counted the rotations, landing a little wobbly but relatively clean. He looked over at Lena who was holding her phone out in front of her like she was recording. Why was she- No time to think about that, Dan cut himself off as he went into his flying camel sit spin. Nailed it, Dan thought happily as he got the rush of spinning going through his veins, standing straight on his right leg and spinning with his left leg straight out at his side. He had always been told his long legs made his spins look wonderful so he always did his best to extend to the most of his ability. He grabbed onto his left left after eight rotations and used the force to twirl upright instead of bent over.

Now time for his step sequence, Dan thought as he ended his camel, skating across the rink, making sure to extend his arms and try to convey to the audience (well, the audience of his mind, a kinder audience than the one at that qualifying match) that he was the winter breeze, no, a winter storm, punishing as he moved across the ice. He brought his left hand over his heart, the eye of the storm, and did a turn, facing Lena and extending out his arms at his sides before starting the second half of his program, which began with a lap around the rink before a triple toeloop- double toeloop combination. The runs of the violins were picking up intensity; he wasn't playful breezes anymore but a full storm, and all the jumps he had in the second half of his program proved that. He was no longer playful, he warned with his arms extended as he prepared for his triple axel. He landed it. Maybe it was the lack of competitive pressure but his program was actually going okay.

The violins were merciless now as he performed a chair sit spin. The program was almost over and Dan could feel it in his arms, which he had been over-extending. He did a singular camel spin rotation before jumping into a combination chair spin, grabbing the bottom of his left skate and spinning. He was a storm, spinning, a flurry of activity but all activity had to stop eventually, Dan thought as the music started to fade out and he stopped spinning.

His chest heaved slightly but he turned to Lena excitedly, waiting for her feedback.

“Okay, that was good, but we should do it one more time,” Lena said, lowering her phone. 

‘ _What’s this we shit_ ,’ Dan thought a bit dejected at the lack of a compliment, while out loud he said, “Why are you recording me? You never record me.”   
  
“It’s for a project I’m working on for the rink,” Lena said, looking down at her phone and squinting. She seemed dissatisfied with the footage because she handed Dan his water bottle and asked, “When can you go again?”

“Can I have a fifteen?”  
  
“Sure.” 

-

January came and there was another disruption to his new-new routine (where he practiced until about noon and then got roped into helping Lena teach some of the tots learn to skate). 

“So I did something,” Lena said, handing Dan a letter with his name on it, but the address was for the rink. Dan felt his eyes narrow as he read over the address and took in the already opened envelope. But curiosity got the best of him and he slowly opened up the envelope to take out a piece of paper. 

“Can you open it any slower?” Lena asked, practically vibrating in place.

“Can you tell me why you opened my mail?” Dan asked, as he scanned over the formal header, his eyes drifting downward and he began reading out loud, even if he had the sneaking suspicion that Lena had already read it.

“Dear Daniel Howell, thank you for your interest in our facility…,” Dan trailed off as he read further down the page. “An audition?”

“Yeah, up in Sheffield, near Manchester.”  
  
“That’s the Lester’s gym,” Dan whispered, his eyes frantically scanning the page again, waiting for the joke to happen. Instead an important part of the past few weeks clicked in his brain. “The videos. That’s why you were taking video of my practices.”

“Guilty,” Lena said, looking at her nails in an effect that could best be described as fake boredom to someone that knew Lena well. And Dan knew her well enough to be able to pick out the worried look in her eyes.

“Why… why would you do that?” Dan asked. “Do you not want to coach me anymore?”  
  
Lena was quiet for a second and she exhaled quietly, her whole demeanor changing. “No, no, it’s not that at all Dan. It’s….well...the ice rink is shutting down.”

“What?”  
  
“We’re selling out to developers. The rink… the rink is going under and we’re going to sell.”

“When were you going to tell me?” Dan asked, feeling himself vibrate with anger. The rink… the rink was the one constant in his life: the ice, the shitty snack bar, the little locker room with his locker that he had painstakingly decorated over the years. The rink had been there through every fight, the bullying, through his parents splitting up, _everything_. And now it was going to be gone. “Does everyone else know?”

“No, you’re the first one outside the family to know besides the employees,” Lena said.

“When were you going to tell us?”

“We’ve been trying to draft a letter all week but fuck Dan, it’s been so hard,” Lena admitted, letting out a shuddering breath. Dan didn’t know what to say, so instead he held out his arms. Lena went into them, squeezing Dan so tight.   
  
“I’m so sorry Dan.”   
  
_Me too_ , Dan thought as he hugged Lena tight. _Me too._ **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan's routine is based on Shoma Uno's short program from 2018 which can be viewed [here](https://youtu.be/q49lRGEV43w)


	3. has he got a handel on it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan had a decision to make. Was he going to skate next season, potentially in a city away from where he grew up, or was he going to… go into the void of the future?

Dan had a decision to make. Was he going to skate next season, potentially in a city away from where he grew up, or was he going to… go into the void of the future? 

_Void of a future_ , Dan thought bitterly as he lay in bed, staring up at the slats of the bunk bed having decided he needed a break from the now familiar paint divots on the wall next to his head. A change of scenery, he thought with a snort as he took in the wood burns in the moonlight. Wait, no, _focus_ Dan. 

_Did he want to compete next season_? 

This wasn’t like school where he could take a gap year and come back to it; his body was aging and he had about ten years left in him at peak performing capacity. Besides, after talking with Lena, he thought about how wonderful the Lester’s training facility sounded. It was something official, somewhere that had produced some of the best British skaters over the past decade including the current wunderkid, Phil Lester. 

However, it wasn’t like Dan was a great skater. He came in twenty-seventh of England’s best skater’s, afterall. But, Dan thought as he shifted onto his side, was it because he had never been given the same chance as some of the others? Sure, he worked out and dieted and had a talent and a drive when his brain wasn’t a foggy mess, but realistically, Lena and the gym weren’t made to compete at a national, much less international, level. Lena even admitted that in a talk they had after she gave Dan the letter from the Lester’s gym. Regionals, sure, Dan had easily conquered, but he could see the difference in leaps and bounds between him and those that went to one of the bigger, Olympic level training gyms. Maybe this is what he needed: a change. He had been at the same gym, in the same town, in nearly the same house all his life.Maybe that’s why he felt so stale and scared next to the other skaters at that qualifying nationals competition. A change might do him good.

Well, Dan thought with a wry smile at the wall, that decision was a lot easier than he thought.

He was going to try out at Sheffield. 

-

The next day saw Dan in bed again,turning the letter from the Lester’s rink over in his hand. He had already read it fifteen times, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on it once more before dinner. This was a discussion he didn’t want to have, but he had to have it, and no one could complain when they were eating, right? Most conversations felt easier to have when they were taking place over a meal. He sighed and rolled over on his side, facing the wall, shutting his eye for a moment that was soon ruined by Adrian bursting into their room.

“Nan says dinner is ready,” Adrian announced, barely poking his head in before closing the door loudly on his way out. Dan let out another, more agitated, sigh, but got up. He stretched his back, twisting back and forth a few times before padding out to the dining room. It was a little cramped, some unpacked boxes from their old house being stored in here since it was cheaper than a storage unit. He sat down at the table, fingering the letter he had brought out with him under the table and out of sight from his family. His grandpa sat next to him and his mom across from him which was… not ideal, but it was better than having to ignore intense side-eyeing. It would just be more direct staring.

Oh, Dan _couldn’t_ do this, he thought as he aggressively rubbed the paper between his fingers. It made a loud crinkling sound which caught his grandpa’s attention.

“What are you playing with?” his grandpa asked. Dan ducked his head and took a deep breath before tucking the paper under his thigh. He looked up and everyone was staring at him and he felt like he did when he would stand in front of the other boys on speech day back in school.

At least this time no one was going to yell ‘faggot’ from the back of the room.

“So, they’re shutting down Ice Castle,” Dan announced, ignoring the gasp that his grandma and his mom let out, soldiering on,“and uh. Lena got me an audition at a rink up north.”

“How far north?” His mom asked. “Like, Reading north?”

“Sheffield,” Dan said as he squirmed in his seat, “The Lester’s own it. That couple who won bronze back in ‘94?”  
  
“Ah, that’s pretty far north,” his grandpa said, saying what was on everyone’s mind.

“And it sounds...well, Dan, it sounds expensive. That far North? Transportation, board, food, it adds up.”

Dan felt his heart sink because he knew that, but he and Lena had talked through a few other points.

“They offer scholarships...well, more like sponsorships which cover food and board. And the facilities are a lot better than what I’ve been using here. They have a gym attached so no more secondary gym membership and-,” Dan started to rattle off some of the amenities because he was nervous. Because after his talk with Lena, going over all the things the Lester’s could offer that Wokingham couldn’t, he realized that this could be his way to an actual skating career. Finally investing money in his future like his father always nagged him to do. Being invited to a rink like the Lester’s reinvigorated his love for the sport and he knew he wanted to compete next season, no matter the cost.

It just rode on being able to go to this audition which would take care of some of the expenses. 

“It’s still expensive, Daniel,” his mom said, looking tired. “Look, I know you love skating but-”

“Mom, it wouldn’t be more than what we’re paying now and skating is my life. Lena and I did the math,” Dan said, taking out the piece of paper from under his thigh and handing it to his mom. On the back, Lena and him had made two cost charts, one for Wokingham and one for Sheffield that was based on Dan getting the sponsorship. “Like… it’s more than loving it, it’s almost a biological imperative for me to skate. I… I want to go audition. Please?”

“... I’ll have to think it over and discuss it with your father,” his mother said as she looked over the paper. 

Dan felt his stomach sink at that but he still let out a breathless “thank you” because at least she was considering it.

The conversation paused for a second before his grandmother cut in. “There’s always the college fund, dear.”

“College fund?” Dan questioned, looking back and forth between his mom and his nan. 

“Well, your grandpa and I set up college funds for both you and Adrian. College is important-” his nan started before his grandpa cut in.

“It’s very important but it’s not for everyone. We’d release it to you if you would resit your A-Level for psychology. That way if this doesn’t pan out, you could go to college at some point.”  
  
“Yes,” Dan said immediately. “I would resit.”

“Now hold on a second,” his mom started to cut in but his nan cut her off.  
  
“Karen,” his nan said, ”when you were younger, you wanted to be an artist and we supported your decision. Besides, he said he’d resit the exam, didn’t he? It’s a win-win.”

“I just don’t know if he’s really had time to think it over. How long ago did you get that letter, Dan?”  
  
“Three days ago,” Dan admitted. “And I have been thinking the whole time. I… mom, I love you and I understand that it’s hard to support me sometimes-”   
  
“Don’t put words in my mouth-”

“But I know in my heart I was meant to be a skater. It’s… it’s a part of me,” Dan said, looking her in the eyes, trying his best to convey how important this was to him. “I want… no, I need to try and do better. I’m stagnant here, mom. I want to explore the world and the best way for me to do that is through skating.”  
  
“And I said we’d think about it. We _will_ think about it Daniel…. I…” his mom let out a large sigh, “When is the audition?”   
  
“Next week. On Friday. So ten days.”   
  
“... I’ll let you know.”   
  
“Okay,” Dan said, not sure where he stood. The table was awkwardly quiet again for a moment, the sounds of cutlery scraping against the plates and throats clearing, before Adrian piped up. 

“Can I use my college fund to go to Disney World?”  
  
-

Dan had never been so glad to escape the table as he had after that conversation. He went back to his room after doing the dishes and checked his phone. There was a new tweet from Phil Lester’s twitter. Probably an announcement for where he was competing next since it was his official one, Dan thought as he opened the notification anyway.

_‘Due to an unfortunate fall, Phil has broken his right ankle. Phil will be taking the rest of the season off in order to heal,’_ the tweet read. Attached was a picture of Phil in a hospital bed giving a weak looking thumbs up, decked out in a hospital gown and hooked up to an IV, while his foot was elevated above his head.

Dan felt the air leave his body. Sure, him and Phil weren’t close, hell, they had only had one conversation and Dan was tipsy for it. But it was so weird for Phil to have a season where he wasn’t competing in the Grand Prix or in World’s, since he had been doing it since he had reached fifteen. That was seven years of Phil dominating the skating game of England. 

He wondered how Phil felt about not skating. He wondered if Phil felt like Dan did when he had sprained his ankle last year, knowing the ice was so close but unable to touch it. It probably felt worse for Phil; there was a difference between a week off the ice to rest and months off, including PT time. Would Phil even be able to heal in time to compete next season? Dan felt his breath catch in his throat as he thought about a season where Phil wasn’t competing.To Dan it felt completely unimaginable. 

He stared at the tweet a moment longer before responding with a broken heart emoji and a “get well soon”. He went to set his phone down and got a notification that he got a like on his tweet from Phil Lester himself. 

Dan felt warm as he stared at the notification a little too long.

-

Nearly a week passed and his mom and him were in the kitchen, making dinner and having some “bonding time” while his nan was at bingo. It was Dan’s cheat day so they were making pasta with salad on the side. She seemed a little sad, constantly sighing and getting distracted while cutting vegetables for the salad. Dan was worried she was going to chop a finger off, so he asked if they could switch.

“I’m fine dear,” his mom said,waving him off. Dan held up his hands in the universal sign of ‘I surrender’. “Just. Sometimes it’s hard seeing your father, you know?”

Dan did know, he was very aware of what dealing with his father was like. He saw him just two weeks ago, before he had gotten the letter. It had been a stiff lunch with him, his dad, and Adrian (who carried most of the conversation). But he also hasn’t been married to the guy either, so he imagined it was hard in a different way for his mom. He nodded in agreement and made sure he had water in the pot, not wanting to repeat one of the first times he made pasta and didn’t know he was supposed to add water.

“You saw dad today?” Dan asked, feeling his heart rate pick up because that meant they had probably talked about his skating. He and his mom had had a few more conversations about it, mostly going over the costs of the program. Dan had had to call Lena and put her on speakerphone at one point to have an adult back him up about how good this training facility was and talk about some of the costs and Dan’s chances for getting the housing sponsorship. Dan had never been so complimented by Lena and was nearly tearing up by the end of the conversation.

“Yes,” his mom said simply. “We had lunch.”

“How was it? Eat anything exciting?” Dan asked politely, nearly vibrating with excitement at the answer to the first question. 

“It was okay. I had that salad with salmon in it, some French name, and it was super tasty. He misses you and wants to see you and Adrian this week,” his mom tacked on. 

Dan didn’t want to argue with her but he was sure that his dad probably just missed Adrian, the child he was ready to have and not Dan, the “happy accident”. But he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying that before answering. “I’ll call him later and see when we’re all free.”

“Thank you for taking the initiative,” his mom said, pressing a kiss against his cheek as she walked by to wash off carrots for the salad. “Has he messaged you at all today?”

“No,” Dan said with a shrug. That wasn’t unusual; his dad usually messaged him once a week for nearly a half hour and then maybe he would get a call a few days later saying they should meet up.

“Oh,” his mom said, sounding surprised. She shut off the sink and cleared her throat. “So we talked about Sheffield today.”

“Oh?” Dan said, trying to keep his tone light and casual as he gave the noodles a stir. He picked one out of the pot and bit into it, wincing at its still crunchy texture. It distracted him enough that he didn’t immediately start begging for answers. 

“Yes. It was… encouraging,” his mom said. “But he was excited to hear you were going to resit your A-level.”

“What did he say?”

“That he was proud of you. He also said that he would help, but he wanted you to go on a few uni tours,” his mom said, biting her lower lip, “consider some online courses.”

Dan assumed his dad meant ‘consider’ as ‘take’.

“I… I can consider it,” Dan thought, not sure what school would take him for online courses. He only got two As of the required three. Were there different requirements for online learning? He honestly needed to do research on the subject.He hadn’t really considered doing online courses before. He figured if he ever went to college, it would be as a proper full time student. Living on campus, going to parties, the full experience like some of his mates were having. 

His mom beamed at him, flashing a dimple, and went over to the table where her purse was sitting. She pulled out her wallet and pulled out a slip of paper that she brought over to Dan. It was a ticket.

“I bought your train ticket. For Sheffield. I have to work that day but I wish I could go,” his mom said, sounding genuinely sad. Dan’s heart squeezed and he turned and hugged his mom. They did quick hugs now and then, but this was a proper hug, something of joy that deserved to be drawn out. He almost dwarfed her now, no longer the knobby kneed boy that would climb into her lap to hear her read Winnie the Pooh to him. 

“It leaves the day before your audition so you’ll be there a little early. Be able to get in a good night’s sleep. We’ll book you a hotel after dinner, okay?”

“Thank you,” he whispered, his throat feeling tight with his happiness.

“Of course, bear,” his mom said, pulling out the childish nickname from his past. “I...Daniel, I know it’s hard to believe but I’m always in your corner, I promise.”  
  
“I know,” Dan said, feeling a little guilty for the way he had implied at dinner the other night that she didn’t support him. She was probably his biggest supporter, alongside Lena, going to almost any performance he had and making sacrifices in order to make his dream happen. He wasn’t going to let her down at Sheffield, if he got into the program. 

He was going to do everything he could to make her proud.

Dan packed that night, Adrian watching from the top bunk. After dinner, they had booked his hotel room (using up the last of Dan’s savings from Asda and the rink) on the computer, emailing the reservation to Dan’s account so he could access it on his phone. 

“So if you get accepted, I’ll get the room to myself?”  
  
“Well, I won’t be here, so yeah,” Dan replied, looking between two of his workout leggings. One was dark navy while the other was black. Which one screamed winter storm more? Dan couldn’t decide so he chucked both of them into his spare duffle bag. He would stop by the rink in the morning to grab his other duffle bag with his skates and his makeup (look, everyone had blemishes and sometimes he didn’t want to look like a spotty twelve year old like Adrian). 

“Well, I hope you get in then. I won’t have to wake up early anymore,” Adrian said. “Or have you nag me about my towel on the floor anymore; I’ll be able to do whatever I want.”  
  
“Sure kid,” Dan said with a snort. “Tell that to mom.”

Adrian glared at Dan but didn’t say anything to refute the claim either. He was quiet for a minute before he broke Dan’s concentration again.

“I really hope you get in,” Adrian said, sounding sincere this time.   
  
“So do I,” Dan said after a moment before chucking two long sleeved shirts into the duffle bag. **  
**


	4. improvise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an audition, a re-meeting, and a phone call

Dan was nervous; there was no way to mince words or say it lightly. He jogged up and down the lobby of the Lester’s training facility, his program music playing softly in his ears so he could hear his name be called. He had gotten here early, earlier than even the Zamboni driver, and sat on the front steps waiting for them to open the doors. He hadn’t been trying to suck up or make an impression; he just honestly hadn’t been able to sleep and when he couldn’t sleep, he skated. But now he was waiting for them to call his name to go in. There were more people here than Dan was expecting and his nerves were starting to take hold. 

He waited for another forty-five minutes.  While waiting, he explored the building a little bit, not wanting to overexert himself too much. He poked his head into the gym and thought of what it would be like to have a workout plan tailored to his needs instead of going to the gym and guessing what he needed to do. The trainers were also trained dietitians, according to the pamphlet, and Dan wondered if they would have any recipes to stay healthy that weren’t grilled chicken breast. He was daydreaming about a healthy dish with variation when a familiar voice called out his name from across the lobby.

“Daniel Howell,” PJ called out again, a clipboard in his hand and an erratic air about him. Dan froze, not expecting PJ to be here helping out. Dan walked over to PJ, giving an awkward two finger salute to him. Well, Dan felt that the salute felt awkward since the last time PJ saw Dan he was drunk. He wasn’t nerdy, socially awkward Dan then, he was drink and have a great time Dan. 

“Hey. What are you doing here?” Dan said.

“Senior skaters help with auditions every year. It’s usually Phil but...” PJ trailed off for a second before shaking his head. “You RSVPed pretty late, you sly dog.”   
  
“Chronic procrastinator,” Dan explained as he followed PJ into the arena, feeling a sense of calm wash over him as he gazed at the rink. It looked like every other rink he had skated on with hockey circles painted into the ice, but these seemed a little brighter. 

PJ laughed at him and gave his shoulder a pat that rested too long on his shoulder. “Same, mate. I waited until the night before to try and pick music I wanted to skate to last season. It’s how I ended up with what I did.”   
  
“If they didn’t want us to procrastinate, they shouldn’t have it work out for us,” Dan said, setting his duffle bag down on the section of bleachers closest to the entrance to the ice. He studiously ignored the people sitting in the bleachers near the center of the ice. He pulled out a CD case and turned it over to make sure his name was on the back, as per the letter. 

“I’m guessing I give this to you?” Dan hesitated, holding it out. 

“Yep!” PJ said, popping the p as he took Dan’s CD. “I pop it in, you skate, you hear back from us in about two weeks about whether you're accepted into the program or not. Simple.”

Dan nodded along to PJ’s spiel, unzipping his jacket and laying it on top of his duffel bag. He saw in the lobby wearing full costumes, some of the sequined pieces nearly blinding him, but Dan had gone simple: a black long sleeve with mesh shoulders, the black leggings, and light makeup to make his face look smooth since the past week had caused him to have a stress breakout. 

“Okay, you’ll have five minutes to warm up,” PJ explained. “We’ll announce when you have a minute left and then announce when it’s over and give you time to get set up. Any questions, comments, concerns?”   


“No,” Dan said, shaking his head. Well, Dan had concerns, but not about the information PJ just gave him. He took off his skate guards and stepped on to the ice after a deep breath. He refused to look up into the stands, didn’t want to acknowledge he was being watched. Dan spent most of his five minutes doing ice strokes and attempted his triple to double toe-loop combination, nodding in satisfaction when he landed it. It wasn’t the prettiest landing, he felt like an elephant, to be honest, but he landed it. He heard PJ announce he had a minute left and Dan used it to go over part of his step sequence that had been giving him trouble until time was up. He shook out his arms before skating to the middle of the ice, finally looking up into the stands. 

There in the middle were the Lesters, Kathryn and Nigel, bronze medalists and the last shooting stars of English skating. There were five other people with them that Dan didn’t recognize but Dan assumed were coaches. Dan took a deep breath as Vivaldi’s “Winter” began playing. Him and Lena had gone back and forth about doing this number or his most recent free program, but ultimately they both agreed this was a stronger program and would show off Dan’s artistic range better.

Dan brought his arms up and back, taking a few steps across the ice. He was a playful breeze, light and teasing in the beginning, his arms constantly spinning to keep up momentum. He went into his triple flip with no hesitation, pretending he was back home with Lena watching him, believing in him. 

He turned himself backwards on his left leg before using the toepick of his right leg to launch himself into the air, holding his breath as he counted the rotations. Three full rotations and then a landing on to his right foot. Good start, Dan thought as he glided across the ice, back to the middle, to go into his flying camel sit spin. He wondered what the judges were thinking so far- no, focus Dan, you’re skating right now,  _ feeling _ . He grabbed onto his left left after eight rotations and used the force to twirl upright instead of bent over.

His step sequence was a little sloppy, Dan could admit. Maybe he had over-practiced it earlier and now he was overthinking it? He wished he could frown and start over, show the people watching that he could do better, he  _ has _ done better, but he could only mourn for so long. The show had to go on.

He brought his left hand over his heart and did a turn as he started the second half of his program. It was time for his triple toe-loop to double toe-loop combination. Dan was still feeling energetic. Lena made him skate sprints pretty often, so he felt like his endurance was good, but today this program was going better than expected. He needed to wow the judges, needed to show them that he was willing to do anything to get in. Lena would be yelling at him. The voice in his head sounded like her, but he was going to change his triple to a quad anyway. Dan jumped off his right foot; he twirled a little tighter than normal and managed to squeeze out an extra half a rotation, making it more than a triple but less than a quad. He felt his face drop in panic as he landed it, over-rotated as it was. He had never landed a quad when it mattered; he had a twenty percent success rate of landing them. He didn’t know why he wanted to try it today when it mattered most of all. Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ . But instead he continued with his program, using the momentum to jump off his right foot again and and doing his much more manageable double toe loop. 

The triple axel was landed but he felt heavy doing it; it may not have looked as graceful as he thought it could be, but Dan was flying high on the adrenaline of panic. The violins were mercilessly fast now as he performed his chair sit spin. Everything in him ached, and he could feel the sweat drenching his back. Maybe he should have worn something lighter than his workout gear? Too late now, he thought as he went into a singular camel spin rotation, his right leg stuck out behind him at a parallel angle. He into a combination chair spin, grabbing the bottom of his left skate and spinning. 

He stood still as the music came to a close and stared at the middle of the bleachers, unsure what to do next. Seven faces stared back at him, unreadable from the middle of the rink. PJ hadn’t told him what to do at this part. Was there an awkward interview? No, it had just said an audition. He waited a moment and as the pause drew on, yelled out, “Thank you for your time!” before skating to the edge of the ice to leave.

Dan walked over to his duffle bag, popping on his skate guards immediately before throwing on his jacket in a flurry of movement. He looked up and over and noticed that everyone was huddled together. He could hear voices, but they weren’t distinguishable. He picked up his duffle and turned to leave, nearly knocking someone over in the process since his head was still turned towards the huddle in the middle of the bleachers.

“I’m so sorry,” Dan blurted out, reaching out to steady the other person. His eyes met blue-yellow-green and he felt his face heat up. Smooth move Dan, he thought as he helped Phil Lester right himself on his crutches. 

“It was a little bit my fault,” Phil said with a chuckle. “I’m still getting the hang of these crutches. But I’m injured so we’ll blame you.”   
  
Dan’s eyes immediately looked down and yep, Phil was wearing a big, gray boot. His foot was still broken and Dan had almost just pushed him over. He was still holding on to Phil’s arm and, after noticing, Dan let go, knowing his face was progressively getting redder in embarrassment. 

“Sorry again,” Dan mumbled. “And uh. Sorry about your foot. Have they said how long it’s-”   
  
“Hey Phil, Dan,” PJ said, appearing at their sides. “Dan, it looked spec-tacular! I hope you get in.”

“You and me both,” Dan said, looking up from the floor and looking over at PJ, rubbing the back of neck at the praise. “I uh...I better get going. It was nice seeing you guys again.”

“How long are you here for?” PJ asked. “We should hang out again.”   
  
Dan felt himself deflate at the suggestion. “I’m actually leaving tonight. I have to go check out of the hotel room and get over to the train station. Sorry.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” PJ said, sounding honestly disappointed. He looked at Phil and asked,” isn’t it a shame Phil?”

“It is,” Phil agreed with a shake of his head and a glare at PJ before turning to smile at Dan. Weird. “But hope to see you back here in the month.”

“Thanks,” Dan said, looking between the two guys, wondering what was going on that he was missing here. Had he done something stupid when he was drunk? Were they making fun of him? It stung a little but Dan figured he must have been a real riot when he was drunk. Could they hold what he did when he was drunk against him? Probably. 

“I’ll see you guys next month. Hopefully,” he said as he bobbed his head and waved goodbye to Phil and PJ before heading back into the lobby to change back into his shoes so he could leave. 

As he walked out of the skating rink he turned back and stared at the imposing building one more time. He shut his eyes and sent up a plea to the universe he would be allowed back here to train. He felt a pull to the place that had churned out one of the leading male skaters of the decade and he wanted to grow as a skater. Surpass Phil even, if that was possible. But first, he had to get in.

-

When he got home later that night, he was surprised to see his mom’s car in the driveway. Normally she had night classes on Friday nights, but he guessed she skipped it to hear about his audition. He walked through the door quietly and toed off his shoes.

“Dan, is that you?” his mom calls out from the lounge. 

“Yeah,” Dan calls back. “Gimme a sec.”

Dan walks into the lounge and nearly steps out again when he notices that everyone is in there, not just his mom. Adrian, Nan, his grandpa. His dad.

“Hey, Dan,” his dad said casually, like he belonged in Nan and Pop-pop’s living room. He had, at one point, but now that his parents were separated, was it really his place? “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Dan said, looking at his mom to see how she was handling his father being in the same room as her. She looked calm and poised so Dan relaxed a little, his shoulders dropping in reaction. Sure, he loved both his parents but he was a little defensive of his mom and wanted to make sure she was okay. They seemed to be getting along better now that they were seperated but he could never forget the way his dad’s screams had echoed or the way his mom had cried at 2am sometimes.

“Just fine?” his dad asked, shifting on the couch while maintaining eye contact with Dan.

“A little tired. The train ride was long,” Dan relented, trying to share a bit of what he was feeling. He didn’t want to get into how he sat in the bathroom on the train, unable to breathe, for ten minutes because he was so sure he didn’t get into the program.

His nan nodded like she understood. “Well….how did it go?”   
  
Dan felt his throat close up. How did he explain he had messed up the entire audition by going for a quad? That his footwork felt sloppy? His awkward thank you to the panel and near mow-over of the owner’s son? How did he explain that he felt like he messed up at every turn?

“Fine,” is what he went with. 

“Well, tell us about it,” his grandpa pressed, looking up over his crossword puzzle. Dan’s throat felt like it was as small as a straw from how tight it was. He took a big breath and set his bag down before sitting down on the couch.

“The hotel was nice,” Dan said, looking over at his mom. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said warmly, encouragingly. “How was the rink?”

“Beautiful,” Dan said truthfully. “The gym looked really cool from what I could see through the window.”   
  
“Did you get to talk to anyone?” his dad asked.

“No, just the guy helping run the event. PJ. He said I did ‘spec-tacular’,” Dan said, mimicking the way that PJ said the word in his drawl. 

“Well that’s promising,” his nan said encouragingly.

Dan smiled at her as his dad cleared his throat.

“So you think you got in?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Dan said honestly. “PJ said I should hear back in two weeks or so.”   


“But you’ll spend that time studying, right?”   
  
“And skating,” Dan said, feeling ice go down his spine, sitting up straighter. His dad just couldn’t let him enjoy skating, could he? 

“Do you need help with… what was it, geography?” his dad asked.   
  
“Psychology,” Dan answered. “And no, I still have my notes somewhere.”   
  
“Well, look for them this week. The re-sit is in June.”   
  
“Planned on it,” Dan said, hearing his tone sound more and more defensive at each answer. “It’s a little hard with everything all pa-”

“Dan, did you want something to eat?” his mom cut in, obviously picking up on the growing tension in the room. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge.”

“...yeah,” Dan said, looking away from his dad and getting up. “Are you staying longer? I’m a little hungry...”   
  
“No, I stopped by after taking Adrian to dinner. Just wanted to see you. I actually have to leave soon,” his dad said, looking at his watch. “Come give me a hug and you can go eat.”

Dan walked over to his dad and stiffly gave him a hug. He loved his dad, the weird semi-hippie that he was, but sometimes it was hard to love him, especially when he kept giving Dan commands. He was an adult now, he didn’t need someone giving him permission to eat. But his dad was helping pay for his skating, so he couldn’t say anything, didn’t have the right to fight back. He let go and stepped back, making room for his dad to stand up. 

“I love you Daniel,” his dad said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll see you later this week?”   
  
“Yeah, love you too,” Dan mumbled back, looking down at his feet. He felt more tired all of a sudden. When his shoulder was released, he stepped back and went into the kitchen. He could hear some mumbled goodbyes happening from the kitchen, just audible over the hum of the fridge. He pulled out the leftovers (baked chicken and brown rice with some canned green beans) and nearly dropped it all when Adrian appeared next to him in the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ,” Dan all but shouted.

“Language Daniel,” his nan shouted from the living room. 

“Sorry, Nana,” Dan shouted back before looking at Adrian, who had been abnormally quiet in the living room. Normally when Dan went somewhere that wasn’t Wokingham, Adrian had twenty thousand questions but today he was quiet. “What?”   
  
Adrian looked around before beckoning Dan closer with a hand and whispered, “Dad has a new girlfriend.”   
  
Well….that was a mood killer. It wasn’t like Dan expected his parents to magically fix all the issues between them, stop fighting, and get back together (god he hoped they didn’t) but hearing that his dad was already dating? That was a lot.

“How do you know?” Dan asked, looking around to make sure his mom wasn’t walking in.

“I met her tonight at dinner,” Adiran said, picking a green bean out of the open tupperware container faster than Dan could swat his hand. “She’s blonde and named April. She seems… nice.”

Dan put his plate in the microwave.

“Does mom know?”   
  
“I don’t think so,” Adrian said after a moment. 

“Well, don’t tell her,” Dan said. “She has enough going on with school she doesn’t need to be worrying about that.”   
  
Adrian was quiet, biting his lower lip, but he nodded in agreement. Dan took out his food in silence and sat down at the table in the dining room. Adrian joined him, even though they both sat in silence. His mom walked in a few moments later and sat at the table with them.

“So,” his mom started.

“Dad got a girlfriend,” Adrian blurted out. Dan glared at Adrian before looking over at his mom who… didn’t look surprised. A little sad maybe, her eyebrows drawn in a little and a frown on her face.

“I know. We talked about it at lunch the other day,” she explained, her hands clasped in front of her. “Was she okay?”

Adrian looked at their mom for a moment before he nodded. “She seemed nice.”

“Good,” was all his mom said before she looked at Dan. “And what do you think?”   
  
Dan paused in his eating to stare between Adrian and his mom. “I haven’t met her so I can’t say. But I think it’s fucked that dad is just. Dating again.”   
  
“Language, Daniel,” his mom said mildly. “I think I need a cuppa. What about you boys?”   
  
“No thank you,” said Adrian.

Dan nodded, prepared for a long night. 

-

Dan groaned as his alarm clock went off the next day. They had stayed up late last night, talking about Dan and Adrian’s feelings about their dad. Mom had stayed quiet except for questions about how they were feeling since the separation, how not seeing dad made them feel, and so on. But they had stayed up until close to twelve. Dan was a bit of a night owl, but waking up at 4:30 after staying up so late was even pushing his limits. And Adrian’s it seems. 

“Turn it off,” Adrian whined. 

“Working on it,” Dan said as he reached out of the cocoon he had made for himself to turn off the alarm clock.

“Can’t wait for you to move to Sheffield,” Adiran huffed.

“Neither can I,” Dan said as he rolled out of bed. “Go back to sleep Adrian.”   
  
“Working on it,” Adrian said back and Dan could hear him shuffling around in his bunk, probably trying to get comfortable again. Dan got dressed in the dark, having laid out his workout gear the night before. After he got dressed, he jogged to Ice Palace, blasting some music in his ears to make the time go by faster. 

He found Lena waiting for him in the locker room.

“How’d it go?” Lena asked.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Dan said as he dug into his locker for his skates. He had cleaned it out last week in preparation for Ice Palace closing next month. It was weird peeking in and not seeing any of the posters that had decorated it for so long. Although, he thought with a flush, he was glad to finally take out that poster of Phil now that he had met the other man. “It went okay. I tried to do a quad.”   
  
“Where?  _ Why _ ?” Lena asked, sounding horrified. 

“In my combination jump in the second half. I wanted to try and impress them. It ended up just being an over-rotated triple,” Dan admitted, glad he was finally with someone who would understand his shame. His family would come to watch him, but they weren’t as invested in Dan’s skating as they had been invested in Dan’s short lived drama phase. Maybe because figure skating was too technical- “What?”   
  
“I said,” Lena said, her tone showing agitation, “I can’t believe you self-sabotaged.”

“It wasn’t self-sabotage! I honestly thought I could do it,” Dan said, spreading his arms wide. “I had so much energy left and I wanted to try.”   
  
“You try during practice, not when you’re performing for Kathryn and Nigel Lester,” Lena sighed. “I can’t believe you.”   
  
“Well it happened, I had the nightmares about it, now I have to wait two weeks to see if I completely cocked it up,” Dan snapped. Lena held up her hands in the universal sign of ‘I surrender’. 

“Sorry, I guess you don’t need me to beat you up, huh?”   
  
“Not really. Sorry that I snapped at you,” Dan apologized. 

“Sorry I jumped down your throat,” Lena apologized back. “Ready to skate? Maybe we can work on the combo jump and make it what you wanted?”

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” Dan agreed easily as he finished tying up his skates. He pushed his brown fringe out of his eyes and stood up to follow Lena out on to the rink. 

-

It had been a week and a half since Dan had auditioned and he was starting to lose hope that he had gotten in. Well, to be fair he had lost faith after a week, but the extra three days weren’t helping anything. He jumped anytime his phone rang, pulling it out immediately only to be disappointed with telemarketers or his dad. 

_ Ring! Ring! _

Dan rolled over in his bed and squinted at his phone before answering it anyway. He had been taking a midday nap after practicing quads all morning. 

“Hello?”   
  
“Hi! Is this Daniel Howell?” a chipper, but older sounding, voice asked on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, this is him,” Dan answered monotonously, already getting the sinking suspicion this was another telemarketer call. 

“This is Kathryn Lester? From Sheffield Ice?”

Dan bolted straight up in bed and nearly whacked his head on the bottom of the bunk above him. “Yes, yes, Mrs. Lester, hello!”   
  
“Just Kathryn will be fine,” Kathryn Lester, bronze Olympian skater, said to Daniel Howell, certifiable no one. 

“Yes. Mrs. Kathryn.”   
  
Kathryn let out a laugh. “Polite young man. Anyway, I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk about your audition?”   
  
“Yes,” Dan breathed out, before clearing his throat. “Yes, I have time to do that.”   


“Wonderful,” Kathryn said before starting to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry about the cliff hanger. kind of. : )


	5. battaglia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are certain truths in life for emos and pop punk kids: they want to leave their home town

Dan let out the breath he had been holding during the call the moment the phone call ended. He pulled his phone down and stared at it in his hand.

Holy shit.

_ Holy shit _ .

He had to tell someone; he had to tell  _ everyone _ .

Dan tore out of his room at breakneck speed, running down the hallway towards the dining room where his mom had been studying. His legs thudded on the floor and he heard his grandfather yell from the lounge to stop running in the house, but Dan ignored him; he didn’t understand.

“Nan! Grandpa! MUM!,” Dan shouted as he tore down the hallway of the house. 

“What are you shouting about?” his nan asked from the kitchen, poking her head into the doorway of the dining room. His mom looked up from the stack of books on the dining room table, pushing down her readers to better see him.

“I got it,” Dan announced, vibrating in excitement.

“Got what?” 

“I got  _ it _ . The phone call from Sheffield. I got in, I got in,  _ I got in _ ,” Dan repeated until he watched their faces change to comprehension. Both of them started to scream and rush for him. He was sandwiched between his mom and his nan in a hug, getting pushed and shoved side to side as they swayed in the hug.

“We’re so proud of you, bear,” his mom said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “What about the sponsorship?”

“I got the sponsorship,” Dan whispered, unable to believe it. “They actually have a place set up for me to move into with a few other skaters. They’re sending an email later today with the details.”

His mom let out an excited cheer.

“Karen,” his nan scolded, but she was beaming ear to ear. “Oh Daniel, we’re so proud of you.”

“Why are you all screaming?” his grandfather shouted as he walked into the dining room at last. 

“Dan got accepted,” his nan exclaimed proudly, pressing a kiss to Dan’s other cheek.

Dan watched his grandfather’s face change from one of confusion to one of pride. He walked over and pressed a hand to Dan’s cheek before pulling him into a bear hug. “I’m so proud of you, Daniel.”

Dan wanted to cry, he felt so overwhelmed with the mix of pride and sheer elation. Sure, it was going to be harder and he wouldn’t have Lena. Lena.

“I need to call Lena,” Dan said, muffled slightly by his grandfather’s chest. “She’s going to go mental.”

“We’re going to celebrate tonight,” his nan announced. “We’ll go out for dinner. Do you want to invite your dad?”   
  
Dan hadn’t talked to his dad since the revelation about the girlfriend had come out. Well, had an in depth conversation at least. He had texted him a few days ago to let him know that he had found his psychology notes but he felt uncomfortable bringing up the subject of the new girlfriend. However, he was still his dad. Dan looked at his mom for a second to try and get a read on her before agreeing. His mom looked fine with the idea, either that or she was so elated about Dan getting in that she was willing to deal with his dad coming. Dan nodded in agreement and went to pull out his phone, which wasn’t in his pocket; he must have left it in his room.

“I’ll go call him,” Dan said, pulling free of his mom’s arms around his chest. Dan walked back to his room, finding his phone on the ground where he must have dropped it in shock. He picked it up and sent off a quick text to Lena, letting her know he had gotten in, before hitting the contact for his dad and calling him. It barely rang before he got an answer.

“Hello?”   
  
“Hey dad, I know you’re working but-”   
  
“We’re on break actually. What’s going on?”

“I got into the program,” Dan said, feeling his face break into another smile. 

“Congratulations! When did you find out?”   
  
“Like thirty minutes ago? But we’re going out to dinner tonight. Did you want to come with us?” Dan asked, feeling nervous. 

“One second,” Dan’s dad said as he listened to his dad's muffled voice shout to someone for a few minutes. It wasn’t angry, just loud.

“I think I’m working until eight up in London tonight or I would,” his dad said, sounding genuinely disappointed. “I’m sorry. But maybe you, Adrian, and I can go to dinner on Wednesday? That’s my day off this week.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” Dan said, trying to hide the disappointment he felt. 

“I’m sorry,” his dad apologized again. “But, good job. Nice work.”

“Thanks,” Dan said. There was an awkward pause and a voice Dan couldn’t understand came on the line and his dad sighed. 

“Break’s over. But I’ll call you tomorrow? Let Adrian know about dinner?”

“Of course,” Dan reassured him. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“I love you,” his dad said, and Dan felt his heart warm with affection. 

“I love you too,” Dan said and heard an immediate dial tone when he was done meaning his dad had hung up in a hurry. He knew that the set could be hectic and he didn’t blame his dad; he was used to this.Their relationship was rough. It had been since Dan was little, but Dan knew his dad loved him in his own weird way; it was just hard competing with a job that Dan had minimal interest in. 

He was broken from his thoughts by his phone buzzing in his hand. Lena. Dan opened his text messages and was greeted by celebratory emojis. She must be busy, Dan thought, or she would have called. At least, Dan thought she would have called, but his phone stayed silent the whole night.

“You’re quiet today,” Dan finally commented about half-way through practice the next day. He had gone in a little later than usual but was staying late to help Lena set up for the tots class.

“I’m a little sad today,” Lena admitted as she set down a cone. “We’ve been planning the closing party for the rink.”

Dan felt his good mood dim by about five notches. “Oh.”   
  
“It’s in two weeks. You’re more than welcome to come if you’re still here.”   
  
“I wouldn’t miss it, Lena,” Dan said, his voice going a little soft. “You know how much I love Ice Castle.”   
  
“I know,” Lena said. “I know.”

“You guys need any help?” Dan asked, wanting to put a semblance of a smile on Lena’s face.

“Yeah, we could use a little bit of help,” Lena responded after taking a moment to think. “But we need a strong muscly man for that.”   
  
“Low blow,” Dan said, chucking one of the thin plastic cones in her direction and laughing as she dodged it.

“But accurate,” Lena teased, a soft smile on her face as she looked at him. “I’m… I’m really proud of you Dan. You’re going places.”  
  
“I wouldn’t be going places without you,” Dan answered, staring at Lena. “You’re the best coach I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the only coach you’ve ever had,” Lena said, but her smile was fond.

“I know.”

-

Dan got the email with details about his sponsorship later that night. He dragged his ancient, but still functioning laptop out to the living room to show his mom, who nearly teared up when she saw the amount he was being sponsored for. Dan couldn’t blame her; he wanted to tear up too when he saw it. 

“How come you never qualified for this before?” she asked, looking at the amount on the screen. 

“I never auditioned before,” Dan said. “I didn’t even know this was a thing. Like I knew sponsorships were a thing, but I didn’t know about this one.”

“Bless Lena,” his mom said, scrolling through the rest of the email. Dan nodded silently as he read over her shoulder. He couldn’t get over the amount of money he was being given, just to skate, something he loved doing. He barely took in the words about his accommodations and had to have his mom pause so he could read it again. He would be sharing a flat with two other skaters who were more senior in the program in order to “help ease him into the Sheffield Ice culture and way of life”. Dan frowned when he read that.It was ice skating at a rink. What kind of culture could there be that he was unaware of? 

He and his mom continued to read the email and by the end of it, Dan was ready to go now. But he had three weeks to go until he could move in. It worked out well considering the Ice Castle closing party (wake, really, Dan thought morbidly). Dan’s leg started bouncing up and down in anticipation, his mind racing with everything he needed to do and pack and-

“Relax honey, we have three weeks to get it all done,” his mom said, reaching out to press a hand to Dan’s leg to stop it from bouncing. 

“I’m not nervous,” Dan tried to defend himself.

“It’s okay if you are,” his mom said. “It’s a big change.”

“I’m excited,” Dan said in response, his voice quiet. He didn’t want to hurt his mom’s feelings, even if she seemed happy for him. 

“I’m glad, Dan,” she said softly. She sniffled for a second and looked up at the ceiling before pressing the index finger of her right hand underneath her eyes, like it would stop any tears. “I’m not sad. Well, I’m a little sad, but mostly I’m just so… so proud of you.”

“Thanks mom,” Dan said, his throat tight before he leaned against her, something he hadn’t done since he was twelve and decided cuddling his mom was “for babies”. Her arm came up and across his back, holding him close. They sat like that in silence for a few minutes, staring at the end of the email together, until Dan moved away, his own eyes a little misty.

“Thank you mom,” he said quietly.

“Of course,” she said as she opened up a word document on his laptop. “Would making a list of everything you need to do help?”   
  
“Oh god yes,” Dan said, feeling some of the panic lift off of his shoulders as the soothing noise of his mother typing filled his ears.

-

The following two weeks were a whirlwind of activity for Dan. When he wasn’t training, he was helping Lena prepare for the Wake of Ice Castle (which he only said out loud once because Lena sucker punched him), and when he wasn’t doing either of those things, he was packing. 

Packing was a lot more bittersweet than he expected. When they had vacated their old house, they had half-hazardly packed everything they owned, not taking the time to sort through and see if they actually wanted to keep anything. Now, his mom was saying he had to actually sort through everything and decide what he wanted to take with him, keep here at Nan’s house, give away, or trash. The stuff to give away was the easiest pile, mostly filled with old clothes and some of his stuffed animals (but not his raggedy Pooh Bear, who he was ashamed to admit was coming with him to Sheffield). The trash pile was the hardest; Dan didn’t realize how sentimental he had become in his old age (the ripe old age of nineteen). But he kept feeling like he _ had _ to keep the picture he drew in kindergarten even though his mom said she had no emotional attachment to it. Maybe it was from the fact he didn’t have very many baby videos (read: none). His nan came up with a solution called “the to scrapbook pile’ where she would create a scrapbook for the pieces of paper Dan felt particularly strong about. His mom had rolled her eyes but had come back to the house with a scrapbook anyway. 

By the time the Wake of Ice Castle came around, Dan was through about 85% of his belongings, mainly because his mom kept riding his ass about doing a little every day, even withholding dinner until he would work through at least one box. It made him feel better that she was doing the same thing to Adrian; misery loves company.

He had also started receiving more emails about Sheffield. Just yesterday he had received an email from his future coach, Katie. He still didn’t know the names of the people he was rooming with, but he knows he was supposed to board with a family and was now supposed to live in a flat with two other skaters, which suited him fine. He already had a family, he didn’t really fancy crashing with another one. At times he could barely contain his glee whenever he got a new email, even if it made his mom sad. She never said she was sad though, she just kept saying she was proud of him. Dan started making sure when he hugged her, it was a little tighter than normal.

-

Today was the day of the Wake of Ice Castle, and Dan woke up feeling bittersweet. Because it was a party, but it was one that was celebrating the end of an era. Ice Castle had been in Wokingham since the 50’s, started by Lena’s grandparents. Her parents took over in the 90’s. Dan had always assumed Ice Castle would always be there, run by Lena when the time came. But that time wasn’t going to come and instead Lena was moving to Reading, having been accepted as a coach at one of the rinks up there.

He showed up at the rink early, unsurprised to see Lena there doing lazy loops around the rink. She was moving in two days, so this would realistically be one of the last times that Dan saw Lena. 

“You know, I think this is how people get burnt out,” Dan said as he stepped on to the rink, having grabbed a stack of paper decorations off the bleachers and some tape. He felt satisfied watching Lena flinch; their relationship as of late had been primarily more sibling-like than anything close to coach and student, even if she would give advice when she saw Dan practicing. 

“Well, not for long,” Lena said morosely as Dan skated up, holding out her hand for some of the paper decorations. “My new schedule has me coming in at 10 am.”

“You’re going to be spoiled up in Reading,” Dan said cautiously.

Lena snorted. “Tell me about it. I’m not going to be as skint anymore.”

“No need to brag.”   
  
“Okay, Mr. Sponsorship.”   
  
They worked in silence for a few minutes before Dan broke it. “Remember the first day you started coaching me?”   
  
“Officially or unofficially?”   
  
“Officially. You stared at my tiny ten year old body and started giving me a complex about my deformed cheeks.”   
  
“All I said was that you had such cute dimples,” Lena said defensively, but Dan felt better that she was smiling. “You called me old.” 

“Look, twenty-two was very old at the time. You could drive and shit,” Dan said with a laugh.   
  
“Well, now you’re old. I had Annie from the tots class tell me.”   
  
“What a little snake,” Dan said, throwing his head back in laughter. “At least I said it to your face.”

“Yeah, you always were an asshole,” Lena said fondly. “It’s probably why I’m going to miss you the most.”   
  
Dan felt his throat catch on a breath.

“I’m going to miss you too Lena. So much.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll be sick of me with my new cushy job. I’ll text you all the time.”   
  
“You better. It’s going… I think I’m going to be lonely up there Lena.”   
  
“No you won’t,” Lena said. “There’s so many people your age up there, all wanting to skate. I’m sure you’ll be fine and make some friends.”   
  
“Really?” Dan asked hesitantly.

“Really. Just don’t date any of them this time,” Lena said with a joking punch to his shoulder as Dan squawked in protest. “Come on, slowpoke. Let’s get this place decorated before my grandma gets here.”

“Oh, because she’s walking in at 6:30 am?”   
  
“No, but you’re going slow enough it won’t be ready before the party.”   
  
“Fair enough,” Dan said as he skated across the rink to go grab more paper to hang along the walls of the rink. He and Lena worked over the next hour, hanging paper garlands and some decorative flowers they had found in storage on the plexi of the rink walls. The disco ball was working and the sound board was opporational. By the time they were done with the rink it looked celebratory. 

Lena brought out a beer for both her and Dan that she had hidden in her car. Dan squinted at the beer, not sure if he wanted to start drinking before 9am, but when he saw Lena begin to down it, he joined in. He didn't want to make her feel lonely, even if he thought it was much too early to be drinking.

“I’ve earned this,” Lena said definitively, like she had seen Dan’s more judgemental inner thoughts.

“Okay,” Dan said, taking a sip of the lukewarm beer and making a face. “Blegh.”

“You don’t want it?” Lena asked him.

“No, I do,” Dan said, taking another sip. “It’s just warm.”   
  
“Yeah. It reminds me of York,” Lena said. “College beer was never as cold as you wanted it.”   
  
“I wouldn’t know,” Dan said dryly before taking another deep chug of the beer. 

“Think of this as your college experience,” Lena said, tapping the neck of her beer against Dan’s, making a clinking sound. 

“Yes, Professor Lena,” Dan teased.

“Don’t you forget it,” Lena said.

The rest of the day was spent in a state of nostalgia as they decorated the rest of the rink for the party, even doing the lobby. Lena and her family had decided to open the rink up for free admission today, since they were already losing the rink anyway, so they were expecting a big crowd. The snack bar would still be operational and taking money so they hung some decoration on the wall outside there. While decorating, Dan and Lena shared stories about the ten years they had known each other since Dan and Lena had practically lived at the rink during that time. 

Lena’s family arrived around nine, as a surprising crowd started outside the front door. Mostly single moms with toddlers but there were also a few bigger families. Every person that came to rent skates kept saying the same things.

_ “We’re sorry to hear the rink is closing.” _

_ “This rink is where I took my wife on our first date.” _

_ “I remember taking classes here when I was younger _ .”

Every platitude that left someone’s lips made Dan want to explode; he could begin to imagine how Lena and her family felt hearing this. How sorry were they  _ really _ ? Not enough to come to disco nights or sign their kids up for lessons to keep the place running. But Dan kept his lips shut and just asked what their shoe size was so he could grab them skates. 

About halfway through the day, some of the regulars started coming in, including Rebecca, his ex. 

“Hey Dan,” she said as she stood slightly back from the skate rental counter. 

“Hey Bex,” Dan said before wincing. “Sorry.”   
  
“It’s… fine. No one else calls me that anymore.”

“Oh,” Dan said, shifting from foot to foot. “Did you uh… want skates?”   
  
He watched as her face fell a little and felt a bit of guilt start to creep in. 

“Yeah.”   
  
“Size 8’s, right?”   
  
“Yeah….um...this is a weird question but did you want to skate? With me? One last time?” Rebecca asked, twirling a piece of pink and brown streaked hair around her finger tip. 

Dan shifted again and bit his lower lip. “It uh… it wouldn’t be for a bit. I have another hour of my shift. Did you want to wait that long?”

“Not really but I do want to skate with you,” Rebecca said, a little too honest. “Can you end it a little early? Lena’s here, right?”   
  
It was one of the things that had ended their relationship, Dan’s unwillingness to create time for her between skating, working, and the rink. There were other reasons but this was one of the big ones, if Dan could remember right. He had started to get that floaty feeling where he didn’t feel like he was a part of his body or this plane of existence. Dan sighed and looked around. It was a lot slower than earlier this morning so Lena probably would let him go.

“I could ask,” Dan said, watching as Rebecca’s face lit up. Dan felt his heart ache because he did miss Rebecca; she had been his best friend and he had really cared about and liked this girl. He just wasn’t in love with her the way she deserved to be. “One sec.”

“Okay,” Rebecca said, walking across the lobby to get her skates laced up. Even though Rebecca was a good skater and took lessons, she never owned her own pair of skates, leading her to be inconsistent as a skater. 

Dan found Lena towards the back of the skate rows. 

“Hey, can I take a break?”   
  
“Sure, you’re not working for money,” Lena said with a shrug as she grabbed a size 11. “Gonna go skate for a bit?”

“Yeah. Rebecca came by and asked if I would,” Dan explained, watching as Lena paused. “What?”   
  
“You’re going to go skate with your ex-girlfriend?”   
  
“Yeah? She was my best friend before she was my girlfriend,” Dan gritted out. “But I’ll be back soon.”   
  
“Be careful,” Lena snorted. 

Dan shot her what he hoped was an ugly look before turning to go to the office where he had stashed his duffle bag and skates. He quickly tied his skates on and went to go meet Rebecca. When they stepped on to the ice, Rebecca slipped her arm inside of Dan’s arm and oh. This is familiar and Dan could feel himself melting into this, having been deprived of most physical affection for nearly two months. Sure, he had received hugs and that cuddle on the couch from his mom a few weeks ago but there was a difference between that and the constant touches Rebecca would give him. A hug here, a kiss on the cheek there, sitting in her car and having her run her fingers through his hair? Heaven.

“I can’t believe it’s really shutting down,” Rebecca said, finally breaking the silence as she and Dan fell into the familiar rhythm of skating around the circumference of the rink. “Seems like just yesterday we were falling and learning how to skate, huh?”   
  
“I know what you mean,” Dan said. “Lena and I were talking earlier about the time you threw up-.”   
  
“I told you guys not to talk about that,” Rebecca playfully screeched, giving Dan’s shoulder a thump. ”Jerks.”   
  
“It came up while we were reminiscing. It will live on only in our memories soon, not in a place,” Dan said, suddenly feeling a little morose. “I’m really going to miss this place.”

“So am I,” Rebecca said, looking out over the ice.

I’m going to miss you too, Dan thought as he stared over and down at Rebecca. He already did miss her, but it was nothing like he imagined walking around in a city without her just down the road would be. He got caught staring and he looked away.

“I’m going to Sheffield,” Dan blurted out, wanting to let her know. “There’s a rink there and I got accepted into the program.”   
  
“Really?” she said, her tone more disbelieving than Dan would have liked. “That’s good. Yeah.”

Rebecca slowly loosened her hold on Dan’s arm and skated ahead of him a little bit, before turning to face him.

“We were never going to work, were we?”   
  
_ You were always going to leave, weren’t you?  _

Dan could hear the silent accusation in her voice; it was the disadvantage of knowing someone for a decade and dating them for two of those years. 

“No, no we weren’t, we went over this Rebecca,” Dan started before being cut off.

“Is there a girl in Sheffield? A boy?” she asked with a sneer. Dan flinched and looked around to make sure no one had overheard her.

“No Bex, there-”

“Don’t call me that.”

_ It hurts. _

Dan sighed.

“I think this was a mistake,” Dan whispered.

“Yeah...I think it was,” Rebecca agreed with him before skating off angrily, leaving Dan standing in the middle of the ice alone. Again. 

He stood there for a moment before taking a few laps around the ice to cool down before returning to the desk to finish helping Lena.

“That was quick,” was all Lena said when he came back.

“Yep,” he said angrily walking to the office.

He couldn’t fucking wait to leave Wokingham, he thought as he aggressively tugged his shoes back on to his feet. Fuck this place, fuck Rebecca, fuck her fucking sneer when she said a boy like Dan was gum under her shoe for being bisexual and stupid him for forgetting the bullying and- 

Dan stopped to take a deep breath, feeling a shudder go through his body.

He couldn’t wait to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone for the support and kind words. i hope this chapter wasn't a disappointment. if you want something saucy (a deleted scene from chapter one), you can check it out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622368/chapters/54066076). warning, it's more explicit than this story but it does explain the hickey. ; ) i may have a few other scenes that have been cut go there in the future, such as Dan and Kath's conversation if there is an interest.


	6. coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coda: A concluding section or passage, more or less independent of the basic structure of a composition, usually to indicate closure or finality.

Dan woke up slowly, his face pressed into his pillow. He was in a warm cocoon because of his blanket and the small patch of sun that came in through the window. He still had to pack his bedding, he thought drowsily as he nuzzled his face into his pillow. But he could do that in thirty more minutes, right? He was just so cozy, he didn’t want to move. He had a pillow pressed in between his legs and it felt like he was cuddling someone, especially with the warmth he was feeling. He wanted to hold on to this feeling for just a little longer.

But all things golden don’t stay, Dan thought bitterly as his bladder let him know he needed to go now. He grumbled and untangled himself from the cocoon and padded to the bathroom. When he was done, he starred in the mirror, grumbling at his hair that was starting to curl from how sweaty he had gotten during the night. He plugged in his straightener and went to work trying to fix his hair since he was meeting his roommates today and wanted to make a good impression. He ignored Adrian banging on the door a few minutes later, continuing to straighten his hair. He finished and came out of the bathroom feeling a little better and more awake, especially after burning the tip of his left ear.

“Finally,” Adrian huffed as Dan opened the door and pushed his way inside. Dan ignored him and went back to their shared room.

He stared at the three duffle bags that held all the things he wanted to take with him. He wasn’t sure how big the room he was being boarded in was, but he figured he was still packing on the lighter side, especially with his small bag of toiletries and bedding left to pack. Although the room came furnished with the bare necessities like a bed and a wardrobe, Mom had given him a gift card to go to IKEA just in case he had something else he might need (“like a lamp or some sheets; nothing stupid Daniel”); Dan had nodded and put the gift card carefully into his wallet after giving his mom a hug.

He sighed and rolled his neck, before looking at his bedding. He carefully started to fold his duvet into a rectangle, dropping it on top of his duffle bags before stripping his sheets. Did he take these with him or leave them for the laundry? Was it uncool to make his new bed with slightly dirty sheets (his nan had washed them earlier in the week)? Would it be bad luck? Dan shrugged after a moment and started stripping the bed, throwing the sheets into his emptiest duffle bag. He’d deal with the dirty sheet debate later when he was a lot more awake.

He looked around the room before sighing and going to the wardrobe he shared with Adrian to make sure nothing he cared about was still in there. He found his Muse shirt in there, pressed against the far back corner, and grumbled at the idea he might have left that behind but besides that, the drawers he used to occupy were empty. Nothing of his clothes hung in the wardrobe and there were none of his possessions left in the desk. He had packed those items up earlier in the week into his backpack. It hadn’t been much; just psychology notes and a few spare notebooks filled with song and routine ideas.

He looked around the room, taking in the little details, not sure the next time he would be back. The dainty white curtains, the beige walls, the carpet he and Adrian had stained over the years. He let out another sigh and padded out of the room, taking in every detail he could. When he got to the kitchen, he turned on the coffee machine, forgoing his normal protein shake today in an effort to just be awake. He jumped when he heard someone else enter the kitchen, turning to look at his nan.

“Are you sure you need the caffeine, bear?” she asked, padding over and pulling him into a hug. Dan pressed close and inhaled her weird, but comforting, combination of baby powder and rose. Although he and his mom had grown closer in the past year, it used to be the Dan and Nan show. She didn’t always understand him, but she loved him and Dan was thankful for that.

“I’ll make you a cup too?” Dan said uncertainly as she waved him off.

“You never put in enough sugar,” his Nan said and bustled around the kitchen. “Do you want breakfast or anything?”

“No, Nana, I’m not hungry.”

“Too excited?” she asked, always too aware of Dan’s moods.

“Yeah,” he replied as he nodded. “I just. I’m excited to go but nervous too?”

“It’s something new; it’s okay to be nervous,” she said reassuringly as she poured in more cream that Dan would have used into a cup of coffee.

“Glad to have your permission, Nana,” he said, ducking as she reached out to swat at him.

“Don’t be cheeky. Drink your coffee.”

“Yes, Nana,” Dan acquiesced as he took a sip of the coffee she had made for him. It was a little too sweet for his liking but he kept drinking it anyway.

“I wish I could ride up there with you today,” his nan said with a sigh.

“I know,” he said, setting down his coffee on the counter. “I wish you and Poppop could both come.”

“I know, bear cub,” she said with a pinch to Dan’s cheek. “But there isn’t enough room in the car.”

“We could kick Adrian out,” Dan muttered, letting out a yelp when the pinch went from joking to serious. “Nana!”

“Be nice to your brother. He’s going to miss you,” she said. Dan let out a snort.

“Yeah, right,” Dan replied. “You know he kept me up last night asking if he thought mom would let a friend spend the night tonight to celebrate me leaving.”

“He’s going to be lonely. He’s a lot like his brother.”

“I’m not lonely,” Dan tried to deny with a roll of his eyes, but he felt his heart pang at the obvious lie.

“Okay Dan,” she replied, sounding placating to Dan’s ears.

“Morning,” his grandpa said as he came into the kitchen. He made a beeline for the coffee machine and made a cup for himself and the conversation was dropped as his grandpa started asking questions about what time they were heading out.

“Eager to get rid of me?” Dan asked sarcastically.

“Absolutely,” his grandpa said, matching his sarcasm easily. “Finally get some peace and quiet in this house.”

“Okay, Poppop,” Dan said with a laugh.

Dan’s mom and brother wandered out about a half an hour later and Dan got up to pack up the car. Packing it up took less than ten minutes, most of which was Dan complaining under his breath that no one offered to take out any of his bags or help him. The boot was jam packed and he ended up having to put the duvet in the backseat, cementing his fate there as well since Adrian would refuse to sit by the duvet. He went back into the house where his grandmother and his mom were talking quietly until he came in.

“Oh, Dan,” his nan said, pulling out a few pressed bills from her wallet. “This is in case you need anything the first few days.”

“I’ll be fine Nana,” Dan said, looking between his mom and his nan. “My sponsorship already kicked in.”

“Just in case someone wants you to do something fun then. All work and no play makes Danny a dull boy,” his nan said with a wink, forcing the pounds into Dan’s hand and curling his fingers around the money. Dan felt his throat close up and he pulled his nana into a surprise hug.

“Thank you nana,” Dan whispered. He felt himself sniffle and his nan pulled away.

“Don’t you start,” she said, her tone false strict. “If you start I'll start.”

“And then I’ll start,” his grandpa cut in. “And then you won’t be able to go.”

“We can’t have that,” his nana said, wiping at her eyes.

“No, we can’t,” his mom said from the doorway, watching with a sad sort of smile on her face. “I’m going to go wait in the car; take as long as you need.”

“Okay mom,” Dan said, his throat closing up as he turned back to his nan and grandpa. What was he supposed to say to them? They had always encouraged him and wanted him to do his best and supported him. This wasn’t like going to another city for a competition and coming home in a few days; he honestly didn’t know the next time he would be able to see them. There were days he even liked them more than his mom and the idea of not seeing him everyday made him tear up.

“Oh my, Daniel,” his nan finally said, breaking the silence. She pressed a hand to his cheek and rubbed her thumb up and down a few times. “You’re going to be fine, love. You’re named after one of the bravest men after all.”

“Daniel Craig?”

“No, Daniel, from the bible. You remember Daniel and the lions don’t you? You used to love that story,” his nana said, sounding fond. “Just be strong and everything will be fine.”

“Yes nana,” Dan said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Come’ere,” his grandpa said, pulling him into a hug when his grandmother released him. He squeezed his grandpa tight and pulled away after a minute.

“Thank you both so much. For everything,” Dan said, wiping at his right eye with the back of his hand. “I’m not going to disappoint you.”

“You never could,” his nan said reassuringly while his grandpa squeezed his shoulder. “We’re already so proud of you. Be good.”

“Be great,” his grandpa corrected.

“No pressure,” Dan joked with a wobbly smile and a sniffle. He gave them both another tight hug each and said goodbye again, promising to call nan when they made it up there safely.

He walked out to the running car and got in the backseat, flopping sideways on to his duvet when he sat down. He wished he still had that warm feeling from waking up in the sun. Now he just felt lukewarm, like the warmth he felt was slowly being sapped out of him.

“Buckle up, please,” his mom chided him gently. Dan sat up straight and buckled up, staring into his lap for a second before turning to stare out the window. He did that the whole ride out of Wokingham, staring at the familiar sites and places; this would be the last time he would see them for who knew how long. As much as he subscribed to the pop punk idea of wanting to escape his hometown, now that the time came, he felt nostalgic. He felt it for the park where he got called gay for the first time, he felt it for the church where he used to stare out the stain glass windows and have existential crises, he felt it (oddly) for the school where he spent most of his time praying to just be normal. He drove by the entrance to Rebecca’ street and wished things had ended on a more neutral note. He doesn’t even remember telling his mom they broke up, but she didn’t ask if he wanted to stop there either so he guessed she figured it out. He was quiet the whole way out of Wokingham, finally starting to talk when they reached Reading where he couldn’t ignore Adrian’s questions any longer.

The rest of the four hour ride to Sheffield was spent with Adrian pestering everyone in the car and Dan unable to put in his earbuds to ignore him. He rolled his eyes so often he swore they were going to fall out of his skull, but he tried to be nice, remembering his Nan’s warning before they left. He dozed for about thirty minutes, pillowed on the folded duvet in the back, before they reached Sheffield. He woke up when the car reached a stop in front of the building that was to be Dan’s home for the next year (at least, Dan thought, some pessimism colouring his thoughts). Dan was honestly impressed his mom had managed to get the parking as close as they did.

The building, on the outside, wasn't grand. It looked like a decent neighborhood and, if he remembered the email right, was two tram stops away from the rink. He needed to get a pass for that, he thought as he looked up at the building, wondering if any of the windows on the front side would be his room. He didn’t even know the names of the people he was rooming with, just the building and the flat number. He swallowed nervously as he stared at the whitewashed building before opening the door to the car. His mom and Adrian followed him out.

“We’re a little early,” his mom admitted. Dan pulled out his phone and checked the time. Kathryn Lester had said she would meet them at four and it was only three. “Want to walk around and explore a little? Maybe we can find somewhere to have lunch?”

Dan and Adrian agreed and the three of them found a restaurant not far away from the apartment complex, where they ate quickly before rushing back. When they arrived, a short (well, not that short, Dan was just freakishly gangly) woman in her early fifties with shoulder length reddish-blonde hair was waiting out front. When she looked up and noticed Dan walking towards her, her smile came on full force and she waved excitedly at him. Him, Daniel Howell. He was being waved down by Kathryn Lester. He shyly waved back and elbowed Adrian who was waving back like a mad person.

“Daniel! I thought we lost you!” Kathryn exclaimed as they approached, holding out her hand towards Dan’s mum. “Kathryn Lester, pleasure to meet you.”

“Karen Giddings,” his mom said, smiling brightly. “Thank you so much for this opportunity for Daniel.”

“Of course. He really impressed us at the audition. My son couldn’t stop raving about him,” Kathryn said, making Dan nearly stop breathing.

Phil had raved about him? Phil had that much influence?

“Martyn kept saying someone who was bold enough to try a quad in an audition ‘belonged with the rest of us loons’,” Kathryn said, using air quotations around Martyn’s quote.

Dan tried not to let his shoulders slump when he realized it wasn’t Phil. Of course Phil hadn’t watched his performance; he had come in towards the end. He wondered which of the people from the group was Martyn. Dan thought about this as his mom and Kathryn exchanged pleasantries and small talk.

“Well, let’s get you settled in, shall we? I know your roommates were very eager to meet you,” Kathryn said, turning to face Dan. “They’re good lads, I promise. Just a little rambunctious. Boys will be boys,” she said with a laugh to Karen.

“I know what you mean,” Karen said. “These two are always shoving each other.”

“Mum,” Dan said in a scandalized voice as she opened the boot of the car and grabbed one of the duffle bags. He looked over at Kathryn and noticed she was laughing. Okay, that was fine then. He just didn’t want to be labeled a problem child or anything this early on; he already knew being loud was going to get him in trouble, he didn’t need anyone to think he was violent too.

“Grab a bag would you dear, two if you can. Adrian, please grab the duvet in the back,” his mom doled out orders like she hadn’t just potentially embarrassed him.

“Do you want any help?” Kathryn asked, looking at them carrying Dan’s duffel bags and Adrian’s muffled complaints about Dan’ smelly duvet.

“No, I think we got it all. Thank you though,” his mom said as though Dan wasn’t carrying two-thirds of his possessions by himself. Oh well, Dan thought, hoping there weren't stairs. They walked inside and Dan noticed the sign on the elevator that said out of order with a smiley face.

Stairs it was then.

God, Dan wished at this moment he hadn’t skipped arm day as many times as he had as they walked up the stairs, occasionally pausing behind them to shake out his arms as they protested in pain. How come he could hold them up for a ridiculously long amount of time, but ask him to carry anything and he was suddenly useless? He was doing better than Adrian who was still complaining.

They finally arrived at the flat on the fifth floor. Flat 503.

“I’ll hold on to your key until you set everything down,” Kathryn said and Dan could have kissed the floor at her feet, no matter how questionably brown it was.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lester,” he said instead, watching as she unlocked the door.

“Coming in, please be decent,” she shouted out into the flat.

“I resent that accusation,” a familiar voice called out from the flat. “I’m always decent, Kathryn!”

“Yeah, Kathryn,” another familiar voice called out. “We’re always decent!”

Kathryn looked back at them and rolled her eyes. “Liars, the lot of them. It’s like a uni dorm in here on a good day.”

Dan let out a bark of laughter as two lanky bodies came around the corner.

“Dan!” PJ exclaimed, coming over and ruffling Dan’s hair. Dan felt himself stiffen under the touch but then relax. Chris Kendall, followed PJ from around the corner. He was smiling aggressively while wearing a Mario shirt. Fellow gamers? Maybe?

“Glad to have you here, mate,” PJ said, a thicker Southern drawl slipping out. “Kathryn was going to board you with Olly but we had the extra room so we volunteered.”

Dan had no idea who Olly was but he nodded his head in interest.

“You know them Dan?” his mom asked, visibly excited.

“We’ve talked a few times at competitions. I went out with them last time we were in London,” Dan explained.

“Well, that’s lovely,” his mom said. “Would you boys be able to show us to Dan’s room?”

“Of course, Mrs. Howell,” Chris said, obviously doing his best to be polite. It was hard to take it seriously when Dan just remembers Chris loudly, and excitedly, calling for shots.

“Oh, Karen is fine,” his mom said with a laugh as she followed Chris down the hallway to his new room. Dan picked up the bags he had dropped, his arms weakly protesting, and followed them down the hall to his room, which was a deep brown color. The furniture that was in there looked sturdy, a dark brown wood. Dan couldn’t tell if it was real or the fake wood shit from IKEA. There was a desk, a bed, and a wardrobe crammed into the tiny room and Dan already felt like he was going to like this,  
especially after sharing with Adrian for so long.

“What do you think Dan?” his mom asked, looking around.

“I like it,” Dan said, looking around, until his eyes laid on the window. He walked over and opened the blinds, to be met with a view of the apartment building next to them and not the front, like he had assumed.

Adrian followed in and threw his duvet on the bed. “It’s brown?”

Dan resisted the urge to say something sarcastic, instead rolling his eyes. “It’s brown.”

“You should paint it yellow.”

“Why would I paint it yellow?”

“Because it’s a nice color,” Adrian said as he sat down on the mattress.

“It depends on the yellow really,” PJ cut in from the doorway.

“I didn’t realize you were an interior designer Mr. Liguori,” Kathryn drawled from next to him with an affectionate pat on his shoulder.

“A real modern renaissance man, our PJ,” Chris said before turning to Dan and his mom. “Do you need any help?”

“I think we've got it, but thank you boys,” his mom said with a smile. Chris and PJ both answered the smile with smiles of their own before racing off to somewhere else in the flat. Dan could hear their excited voices carry and when he looked over at Kathryn, she had a fond smile on her face.

“I know they seem a little...exuberant, but they are good lads. I’ve known them for years,” Kathryn commented, walking across the room to stand in front of Dan. She held out a key in front of her that Dan took, still feeling a bit of awe that Kathryn Lester was talking to him, much less handing him a key that was the beginning to some of his wildest dreams. It felt like a dream and Dan discreetly pinched himself to make sure it wasn’t.

“I hate to dash off, but I have to go back to the rink,” Kathryn said with another smile. Dan got the impression that none of these smiles were forced; she just seemed like a genuinely happy person. “We’re very glad you’re joining us, Daniel. Let PJ know if you need anything and he’ll help you get set up.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dan said as he squeezed the key in his hand. Did he bow? Offer to kiss her hand. This was ice skating royalty after all. “Um, have a good day!”

Kathryn let out a laugh. “Thank you. Karen, it was nice to meet you. I hope you’ll be able to make it up to see Dan here soon.”

“So do I,” his mom said with a sad smile. “It was lovely to meet you. Adrian, say goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Lester,” Adrian parroted from the bed where he had pulled out his Game Boy Advance.

Dan watched his mom shake his head and apologize to Mrs. Lester who only waved off Adrian’s rudeness with a laugh. “Phil, my younger son, is just like that too. A gamer when he isn’t skating.”

Dan watched her check her watch and mumble under her breath.

“Again, sorry to dash,” she said, backing out of the room. “Daniel, we’ll see you at the rink on Monday. Six am.”

“Six am,” Dan confirmed as he watched Kathryn walk out the door. Kathryn gave another wave and then she was gone, leaving Dan, his mom, and Adrian alone in the room. Dan let out a deep breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and watched as his mom did the same.

“What were you nervous about?” Dan asked with a laugh.

“Daniel, that was bronze medalist Kathryn Lester,” she said, explaining as if Dan was unaware. “I remembered watching her skate on television. I may have been a little starstruck.”

“I understand,” Dan said, staring at his mom with a shared smile. She broke the moment by turning to face Adrian who was humming along with the Pokemon battle song.

“Okay, off the bed with you. Dan which duffle are your sheets in?”

“The blue one I think,” Dan answered as he bent down to check. He turned up unsuccessful so he checked the black one and then shook his head. “Must be in the red one then.”

His mom bent down to check and made an affirmative noise. “Let’s get your bed made and unpacked. Then Adrian and I have to head back.”

Dan nodded as Adrian made himself comfortable in the desk chair to play. Between his mom and him, they got his room set up in roughly an hour, his mom stopping every so often to tell Dan what he would need to buy with his IKEA gift card. Dan finally paused in helping to make a list on his phone since he was sure he would start to forget everything once she left.

When the room was finally done, minus a few things Dan wanted to tweak when his mom left, his mum stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips and nodded. “That should be a good start for you. Don’t let it get too dirty.”

“I won’t, mum,” Dan said reassuringly, at least he hoped it sounded reassuring. There was something about her face that made Dan feel like he missed the mark though. “I won’t.”

“I believe you,” his mom said, her body relaxing. “Do we need to do anything else?”

“Unless you want to come to IKEA with me, no,” Dan replied. He watched her face and he didn’t like how sad she looked. “Mom, it’s going to be okay.”

“I know, bear, I just. It’s hard watching you grow up,” his mom said as Adrian snorted in the corner. “Adrian.”

“What? He’s already an adult, he doesn’t need to grow up more,” Adrian replied.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, but you’re always growing up,” his mom said. “Even me.”

“Yeah, right,” Adrian said, sounding disbelieving.

His mom sighed and looked at Adrian. “Hug your brother goodbye. We need to head out of here soon so we aren’t driving too late.”

Hearing that made Dan’s stomach roll. It wasn’t that he necessarily wanted them to stay, it was just that it seemed so final. So definitive that Dan would officially be moved out of his childhood city and living in a city with people he was only vaguely familiar with. Dan and Adrian looked at each other and looked back at their mom before Dan opened his arms.

“C’mere, runt,” Dan said, ignoring his mom’s chiding. He and Adrian gave a brief hug before pulling away. “Be nice to Nan.”

“I’m always nice to Nan,” Adrian argued.

“Then be extra nice to her,” Dan said with a roll of his eyes. “Her favorite grandchild moved out.”

“Liar,” Adrian accused him, before pushing at Dan’s shoulder. Dan shoved back, not maliciously before being told to stop by his mom. He got in another push and tried not to crow in victory when Adrian couldn’t retaliate.

“Dan,” his mom said with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t antagonize.”

“I wasn’t,” Dan said.

“He was,” Adrian replied, earning a glare from Dan.

“Both of you stop. Now Dan, come here,” his mom said, waiting for Dan to approach her. She opened up her arms wide and enveloped Dan into a hug that he returned, making sure to squeeze extra tight. She matched his strength as she hugged back.

When Dan pulled away slightly, he noticed her eyes were red. “Mom, it’s going to be okay, I swear.”

“Oh I know bear. Because you’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think,” his mom said, quoting Winnie the Pooh like it was nothing.

Dan felt his breath catch, remembering the way his mom would read Winnie the Pooh to him when he was younger. How he would snuggle up next to her on the brown suede couch and listen to the calming cadence of her voice lulling him to sleep as he cuddled his stuffed Pooh bear (that was now sitting on his bed). How she would run her fingers through his hair like she was doing now as she made funny voices for each of the beloved characters. His world started to blur and he heard himself sniffle.

“Oh Dan,“ his mom murmured, sniffling too. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry; it’s a good quote,” Dan said, trying his best not to cry. He didn’t want to say it was his favorite quote, but it was a nostalgic quote that made him feel small and safe like a child. He pulled his mom in for another hug, not squeezing, just holding her.

She was the one to pull away first this time and she patted his cheek. “You have your list? For IKEA?”

“Yes mom,” Dan said, sniffling a little.

“And you’re going to figure out the food thing? Kathryn didn’t give you a card or anything…,” she said worriedly.

“I’m going to figure out the food thing. I have the money Nan gave me until I can ask PJ about it,” Dan said.

“It’s hard to leave, but I have to or we’ll be driving all night,” his mom said as she gave his arm a squeeze.

“Call me when you get home safe?” Dan asked.

“I’ll text you so I don’t interrupt roommate bonding. You’re not going to hole yourself in here, right?”

“I won’t hole myself in here,” Dan said, ignoring Adrian’s snort of laughter from the doorway. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Thank you,” his mom said, and Dan was pretty sure she was thanking him more for trying to interact with his flatmates than simply walking her to the door. They walked out single file, and Dan led them to the front door. They walked by the lounge where there was shouting; Dan was pretty sure he saw Mario Kart on TV. When they got to the door, Dan’s mom gave him another hug goodbye and a kiss on the cheek. Adrian waved goodbye which Dan returned.

As soon as the door shut, Dan felt alone. And while he was sure that he could go into the lounge and be welcomed into whatever PJ and Chris were doing, he just… didn’t want to. He knows he promised his mom he would try to bond with them tonight, but honestly they would be there tomorrow and Dan wanted just a moment of silence after the day he had. So he crept by the lounge carefully and went back to his room where he laid on his bed, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, until he fell asleep.


	7. trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trio: a method of instrumentation or vocalization by three different sounds or voices to make a melodious music or song

One night turned into two days. Well, a day and a half really. Dan didn’t move from his bed, instead he spent the time alternating between playing on his Game Boy and staring at the ceiling, realizing that it was so different to the walls from home. He knew it was different, obviously it was different, but it hit him that it was different because he could see the ceiling. There was none of Adrian’s fussy breathing in a bunk above him. There was no night light lighting up the corner of the room. It was just… different. 

But Dan only got a day and a half of quiet because midway into Sunday, PJ burst into his room with a quick knock. 

“Hellooooo, roomie,” PJ drawled out as Dan sat up in his bed, his heart pounding. 

“Hi?” Dan said nervously, ignoring the pebbling on his arms from the cold of no longer being under a blanket. Dan felt awkward, having his chest exposed to another guy he wasn’t related to so casually, but PJ didn’t seem to mind as he walked into the room. 

“Oh good, you’re alive,” PJ said before sitting on Dan’s bed near his feet. Dan discreetly tried to cover up his chest and stomach. “We got a little concerned but we’ve let you hole up here long enough. It’s time to do something fun! It’s grocery shopping day anyway.”

“Er, about that,” Dan said, looking down and to the side, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I think I was supposed to get a card? Or something as part of my sponsorship?” 

“Yep,” PJ said, popping the “p” as he dug through his jean pockets. Dan was glad he wasn’t the only one who struggled with the constricting feeling of skinny jeans. “Aha, here’s the little bugger!”

PJ handed over a red bank card. “Kathryn said she emailed out the bank information connected to it, like the login and stuff. But come on, get up and get dressed.” PJ patted his lower leg through the comforter and got up. “Ten minutes!”

Dan wanted to protest, but figured that a) it would fall on deaf ears and b) it wasn’t like he was doing anything that would prevent him from going shopping anyway. So as PJ left, Dan got out of bed, his legs tingling from disuse. He padded over to his wardrobe and grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans and his Muse shirt, wanting something soft from use. He grabbed his toiletries, one of the last few things he needed to unpack, and went across the hall to the bathroom. He sprayed on his deodorant and brushed his teeth, taking off the gross feeling of having not brushed his teeth in a day. He debated flossing his teeth to take up more time but ultimately decided that he would rather not have PJ burst in on him again because he was taking too long, so he passed. 

He walked back across the hall with his bag of toiletries and looked around his room for his wallet, hearing victorious music in his head when he found it. He carefully slid the new red card in his wallet and took a deep breath to steel himself into going into the other room. It wasn’t that Dan was bad at making friends, contrary to what everyone in his life believed. He had friends when he was in school, they just weren’t the kind of friends he had wanted to hold on to, especially when they all left Wokingham to go to university. They had all kind of floated apart by unspoken mutual agreement, plus he had been busy with Rebecca and skating. Sure, they texted occasionally but Dan could feel the distance between them now that they weren’t required to be around each other.

So again, Dan could make friends; it was maintaining those friendships that was hard. And Dan needed to be friends with PJ and Chris, not only because they lived together but because they would be spending most of the day together too. Not maintaining these friendships was not an option. 

“Daniel,” PJ yelled from somewhere in the apartment. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Dan answered as he started to head out of his room. He walked down the hallway and into the lounge, where PJ was waiting with Chris. 

“Hey,” Chris said with a half-smile and a wave that Dan returned. “Sorry about him. He gets cranky when he isn’t on a strict schedule.”

“I do not,” PJ said with a push against Chris’ shoulder. “I just don’t want to get caught in the Sunday rush. I have a hankering for some fruit and I don’t want it to be bruised like it was last week.”

“Oh, it has nothing to do with the fact we’re thirty minutes off schedule?”

“There’s no schedule!”

Dan smiled as he watched their interaction, in a way a little jealous. What was it like having someone that knew you so well? At least it looked like PJ and Chris knew each other pretty well by the bickering they were doing right now. They finally turned to look at Dan as if remembering he was in the room.

“Sorry about that,” PJ said, a sheepish smile on his face. “Now, Asda or Tesco?”

“Er. I don’t have a preference,” Dan said, trying to play it cool. Dan had never gone grocery shopping by himself; he had always gone with his nan or his mom. Was he supposed to have a preference by this point in life? Both of them had food so either one seemed fine to Dan, but it seemed like he was being judged on his preference if the way Chris and PJ were staring at him were to go by.

“Okay, Asda it is. We didn’t know if you were posh or not,” Chris explained. Dan felt himself go warm. Was Tesco considered posh compared to Asda? What made them think he was posh? Was it how he talked? It was how he talked. Oh no, this was already going so bad-

“Asda is close enough to walk, is that okay?” PJ asked.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Dan said, with a smile he hoped looked natural and not creepy. He had been told his smile was creepy before. Dan could feel his hands sweating and he hoped neither of the other boys could tell how nervous he was. 

“Superb,” PJ said. 

They walked down the five flights of stairs and Dan already could see that he couldn’t buy too much unless he wanted to carry it all back up the stairs. His legs were protesting from the disuse over the past few days and he could only imagine how much worse it would be when he was carrying bags upon bags of food.

Speaking of food, he thought with a pause as they reached the third floor, what was he supposed to buy? He was supposed to have an appointment with a trainer soon to come up with a meal plan, but that wasn’t helpful for today. He didn’t even have a shopping list. Sure, he had the vaguest idea of how to eat healthy, but he never really had to prepare most of his meals; his nan and mum had spoiled him in that regard. He thought about his conundrum the rest of the way down the building stairs until PJ cut in with a question.

“So Dan, important question. Are you a gamer?”

“I would be if I had a console,” Dan answered honestly. “Mostly I’m just a Pokemon master.”

“Oh, what’s your team?” Chris asked, leading into an in depth conversation of their Pokemon teams, that lasted the whole way to Asda. When they got to the store, Dan stared up at the sign like he has never been in one before, even though he worked at one for a solid six months. He never noticed how imposing it looked before. Maybe he was making a mountain out of a molehill? He followed PJ and Chris to the cart area, pulling out a pound to release his trolley.

“Someone’s prepared,” PJ teased.

“I worked here for a while. Not this particular Asda, obviously, but down south,” Dan explained nervously as he pulled his cart free of the line. Obviously they knew he hadn’t worked at this Asda. 

“Ah,” PJ hummed as he released his own cart. 

“We usually shop separately,” Chris said as they headed into the store. “PJ’s girlfriend works here.”

“Sophie’s not my girlfriend, yet,” PJ said with all the assurance of someone who thought it would happen eventually. He started to roll away from them.

“She doesn’t even know you exist mate,” Chris pointed out, almost yelling.

“Yes, she does,” PJ tossed over his shoulder.

“She doesn’t,” Chris said to Dan quietly as they watched PJ walk away. “PJ stares at her while she checks us out at and won’t say anything until the end when he tells a bad joke.”

Dan bit back a laugh, but a giggle still escaped. 

“Mate, you have no idea how awkward it is watching him try to flirt,” Chris said, before looking around. “Um, meet back here in an hour?”

“Sure,” Dan said, knowing he was going to run late. He could already tell this Asda was set up differently than the one back home and it would take him a while to figure out where he was going, much less what he wanted. Chris left him with a wave and Dan was alone. 

Dan took a deep breath and thought about all the food he had ever eaten in his life, especially the meals he had eaten in the past few years. Chicken. He could do chicken. Maybe some pasta. He could do this. 

Dan wandered around the store for ten minutes, occasionally placing something in his cart, even if he wasn’t sure if he needed it. Did he need a pineapple? Probably not, but honestly the act of putting something in his cart made Dan feel like more of an adult. He picked up two packages of boneless chicken, wincing at the price but putting them in his cart anyway. He decided after the chicken being too expensive that he probably needed stuff for sandwiches; sandwiches were easy to make. 

He went across the store to the deli section to look at cheese, his soul leaving his body everytime a baby screamed. He understood it was nature, but it was just so loud and jarring and fuck, he couldn’t breath. He was doing so well and then it felt like someone dumped something cold down the center of his back because he didn’t really register it until this moment but he was alone. He didn’t have anyone to turn to and talk to to distract him. He didn’t have his nan there with him to tell a story about her friend Janice or his mom talking about her philosophy course or Lena letting him pick out a treat. Hell, he didn’t even have Adrian here.

Fuck.

He was alone.

In another city where he didn’t know what he was doing. 

What was he doing? He felt his eyes start to water and this was it, Dan’s new low, crying in an Asda cheese aisle. He heard himself sniffle and he could feel himself start to shake. He just wanted to have some advice on what to do. Fuck, just hearing a familiar voice might help. He immediately pulled out his phone and called his nan. He frowned when her phone kept ringing until he realized with a start that her sudoku club was meeting right now. 

Everyone’s life was just continuing right along without him, he thought bitterly as he hung up his phone. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and threw the package of cheese into the cart, knocking over the pineapple. He left out a breath that he felt like he had been holding for years and straightened up his spine. 

Okay Dan, time to grab life by the titballs. You can do this. It’s just grocery shopping; people do this every day. 

Dan went through the rest of the store and put some more stuff in his cart on autopilot until it was time to meet Chris and PJ back at the front of the store. He hoped his eyes didn’t look too red, he thought as he approached the front of the store with a cart full of… he wasn’t sure really. But he figured he would figure out something to eat as it went on the conveyor belt. 

He was the first one to make it back to the front of the store so he took the time to check his email, which did have the email from Kathryn about the card. It was a prepaid card that would have to last him a month and then they would reload it at the beginning of every month. It didn’t have a pin. Easy, Dan thought, as he reread the email.

“That’s all you’re getting?” PJ asked from his right, pushing a cart that was just as full as Dan’s up. 

“I have to meet with the trainer and come up with a diet plan,” Dan explained, suddenly feeling self conscious. Was he supposed to have gotten more food? “Plus I didn’t want to carry too much.” 

"Fair enough,” PJ said in agreement, looking around Dan on his tiptoes. “Okay, we’re going to register six.”

“Lucky number?”

“No, it just has Sophie on it,” PJ explained. 

“So, you gonna make a move?” Dan asked, shifting from to foot as they waited for Chris to appear. 

PJ looked at Dan and gave him a considering look before shaking his head no. “She’s working. Like. I want to, but she’s working.”

PJ waited a pause and asked, “Do you have a girl back home?”

“Me?” Dan asked, secretly hoping maybe PJ had struck up a conversation with a random stranger. Dan looked around for Chris, praying for him to appear so this conversation came back home.

“Yeah,” PJ replied, checking his nails. 

“Er, no,” Dan said awkwardly. His mouth started moving before he could control it. “I-I broke up with her back in December.”

“Oh,” PJ said, pausing for a second before saying something that threw Dan into a tailspin. “What about a boy?”

Before Dan could construct an answer, Chris pulled up, his cart a little more full than PJ or Dan’s. “You lot ready?” 

“Yes,” Dan said vehemently, starting off towards lane six. He could hear Chris asking PJ what was wrong and PJ saying something in return but Dan was too far away to hear PJ’s response. Dan got into the queue, his mind racing. He hadn’t even hung out with PJ and Chris for that long and PJ already pegged him for...someone not straight. Was there flashing beacon above his head that said “Jacked Off to Pete Wentz” or something he was unaware of? Why was it that someone was able to peg him as someone who sometimes thought about boys the same way he thought about girls? And why was it PJ’s business? Dan could feel himself going red, but this time instead of wanting to cry, he wanted to scream.

“You alright?” Chris’s voice came from behind him and Dan jumped just a little. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dan said, making sure to keep his face blank and his tone as bland as possible. “Just excited to see this Sophie.”

“Quiet down,” PJ hissed from behind Chris, messing with his hair in the reflection of his phone. “She can probably hear you mate.”

“At least she’d notice you,” Chris whispered back before yelping as PJ jammed an elbow in his side. “Ow!”

“Shut up,” PJ whispered as Sophie looked in their direction and smiled with a wave. PJ smiled, looking like a gassy baby, and waved back. 

It was endearing but painfully awkward to watch. Dan started to load his stuff on the conveyor belt as Sophie finished up with the customer in front of their group. Dan smiled at Sophie when it was his turn to awkwardly stand in front of her. He hated this part of grocery shopping and it was eighty times more painful alone.

“Hello! Did you find everything you needed today?” Sophie asked, looking at Dan with brown eyes and dimpled cheeks. 

“Yeah,” Dan mumbled, pulling out his wallet. He watched as her face twitched and sighed, amending himself. “Er, everything and a little more?”

“Well, I’m glad. Job security,” Sophie said with a laugh as she scanned the loaf of bread Dan bought. Dan let out a laugh at Sophie’s quip and shifted from foot to foot as she scanned the rest of his articles. It was silent, except for the beep of the scanner and Chris and PJ whispering behind him. Dan gave Sophie a forced smile every time their eyes met and she met it with something more relaxed. 

“Okay, that’s going to be seventy five pounds,” Sophie said as she finished ringing him up. Dan felt his eyebrows raise but he pulled out the card from the Lester’s and swiped it, sighing in relief when it went through. He didn’t entirely doubt it would go through, but the worry was there. He moved to the end and waited for Chris and PJ to get their groceries together. Everything was going smoothly until Sophie scanned a package of pasta from PJ’s cart.

“Did you hear about the Italian chef?” PJ asked as Chris whispered ‘oh no’ in horror. Dan wanted to look away when he heard Chris, but it was like watching a train wreck. PJ was rubbing the back of his neck and looking at Sophie in short, aborted glances. 

“Which one?” Sophie asked, looking interested, pausing in her scanning.

“Er, he ah, pasta-away,” PJ finished awkwardly as Sophie let out a giggle that spilled over into a laugh. PJ looked relieved with her laugh and Dan watched his shoulders drop and his whole posture relax. 

“That was a good one,” Sophie said, smiling at PJ. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” PJ said, his voice sounding a bit breathy before he cleared his throat and repeated himself, his voice sounding more normal. He smiled at Sophie who pushed some of her hair back from her face and smiled back at PJ. She finished scanning PJ’s items and gave him his total. PJ paid and gave Sophie a little wave, which she returned.

“See you next week,” Sophie said as they were leaving. Dan saw her flush, repushing back pieces of her hair that had fallen loose. “I-I mean, thank you for shopping at Asda! Have a great day!”

PJ blinked at her before smiling. “See you next week, Sophie.”

PJ collected his groceries and the three of them walked outside. They barely made it out of the store before PJ turned to Chris and went “Did you hear her?”

“Hmm?” Chris hummed in acknowledgement.

“She said she’d see me next week; she does notice me,” PJ said excitedly. Dan imagined PJ would be waving his arms around if they weren’t held down by bags of groceries. “You owe me five quid.”

“I owe you nothing,” Chris retorted. “We never made a bet.”

“... touche,” PJ said.

Chris and PJ continued to argue about whether or not Sophie saying ‘see you next week’ constituted her being aware of PJ’s existence. Dan wished he could join in on the conversation, maybe tease PJ about how Sophie kept looking over at him when he wasn’t looking, but after earlier, he didn’t want to potentially draw any attention to his own dating life (or current lack thereof). Dan walked the few blocks back to the flat in relative silence, doing his best to try and memorize the way to Asda so he could go again later in the week after meeting with his trainer. 

When they got to the flat, Dan sighed as he stared up at the apartment complex, sighing. His arms already hurt from the walk from Asda and he was not looking forward to the walk of four flights of stairs.

“Does it get easier?” Dan asked.

“Hmm?” Chris hummed, stopping his argument with PJ to answer Dan. 

“Walking up with groceries. Does it get easier?” Dan asked, clarifying himself. 

“Oh yeah, especially if you get Terrance as a trainer; he’s brutal with arm day,” Chris said, PJ nodding along. 

“That man is a menace with a smile,” PJ agreed as he opened up the door to the apartment building. “Better hope you get Kerry. She’s nice and doesn’t look like a sociopath.”

“Terrance isn’t a sociopath,” Chris said exasperatedly. “He’s just… passionate.”

“A passionate sociopath,” PJ muttered under his breath as he started up the stairs.

“So what are the trainers like?” Dan asked, wanting to learn a bit more about what it was like at the rink. 

“Well, we can only speak to Terrance and Kerry, but the other two seem nice,” Chris said. “There’s Terrance, Kerry, Louise, and... shoot, I forgot his name. James? Jack?”

“Jack,” PJ confirmed. “Kind of eccentric but some people love ‘im.”

“Okay,” Dan said, nodding his head as he followed them up the stairs. Maybe it was because he already walked home with all the groceries but this wasn’t as bad as he had built it up in his head. “What about Louise?”

“She’s funny,” Chris said. “Kind of a klutz but she’s Phil’s trainer, and look at him.”

There was an awkward silence that followed Chris’ statement as all three seemed to remember that Phil was currently in a cast. Dan snorted and then felt his face drop in shock. 

“Sorry, it’s not funny. I swear it’s not funny. I just. You said she was a klutz and then mentioned Phil and-,” Dan started trying to explain himself, hoping he didn’t offend Phil’s friends.

“Relax mate, it’s not that deep,” PJ said with a laugh. 

“Okay,” Dan replied, still feeling his heart beat rapidly from nerves. 

They arrived at the flat about a minute later and it took everything in Dan’s will power not to collapse in the entryway. He made it into the small kitchen and slowly set everything on the floor, looking over at Chris and PJ, who were already starting to unpack their own groceries. 

“Er, is there a cabinet for me?” Dan asked after a moment. PJ looked over and pointed at the cabinet next to Chris. 

“It’s not big, but it should fit everything you need,” PJ said, staring critically at Dan’s bags of groceries.

“I believe you,” Dan said as he looked down at his own pitiful bags. The pineapple seemed to mock him. How did he even store that? Dan pulled out his phone and tried to figure out how to store it. By the time he had found a credible site, PJ and Chris were done which meant he could unload his food into the cabinet and the fridge. 

“So Dan,” Chris cut in as Dan looked at the three cans of tuna (that he didn’t even like) and tried to figure out where he wanted them in the cabinet. “We were thinking of ordering takeaway tonight and playing video games. A real lads night. Did you want to join in?”

“Sure,” Dan said immediately, not wanting them to think of him as some weird hermit. He knew he hadn’t given the greatest first impression and wanted to make up for that. “What were you going to order?”

“We were thinking Indian,” PJ said. “It’s kind of a tradition on Sundays. We go shopping, take a nap, and then have a cheat day.”

“That sounds fun,” Dan said, feeling himself smile at the other two. He remembered today was Sunday and that tomorrow was going to be his first day of training. He bit his lower lip. “We won’t be up too late, right?”

“No, of course not,” PJ said, reassuringly. “Only until about ten or so. Plenty of time for sleep before training.”

“Okay,” Dan said. “I’m in.”

“Fantastic,” Chris said, sharing a look with PJ that Dan couldn’t decipher. Dan didn’t think anything of it though, figuring it was some sort of bonded roommate thing that he would soon be in on in the future. “We’ll see you in a little bit?”

“Yeah,” Dan replied, putting away the last of his food in the fridge. After he was done, he headed to his room and laid down for a quick nap, setting his alarm for two hours. As he drifted off to sleep, he smiled, happy that things seemed to be working out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys!!! over 500 hits!?!?!? I just want to take this time to say thank you so much for the sweet encouragements and amount of people that have taken an interest in this fic. it makes me really emotional. 
> 
> also, another huge shoutout to my beta, lou, who without them, we would have no fic.


	8. trio part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the episode where they bond over Indian food and Mario Kart

Dan woke up to his alarm two hours later.  _ Only _ the alarm, which felt weird. He was used to having Adrian bitch at him alongside his alarm and not hearing it actually made him miss the brat. Dan turned it off with a discontented sound and rolled over, facing out into his room. He took a few minutes before getting out of bed, scrunching his face when he remembered he fell asleep too easily in his skinny jeans. He shimmied out of his jeans, figuring no one would judge him for putting on trackies instead. He pulled out his favorite gray pair with the hole near the knee that was big enough to put his fist through and felt comfortable for nearly the first time all day. He let out a relieved sigh as his legs regained circulation, doing some stretches to get the blood going. He looked at the clock on his phone and realized it was already five in the afternoon.

_ Where had the day gone _ , Dan thought as he walked out the door of his room. There hadn’t been an official start time to this hangout, but Dan was surprised when he was the first one out in the lounge. He sat down on the couch, immediately feeling himself get sucked in; it was surprisingly comfy for something that looked so stiff. Dan pulled his phone out and pulled up a YouTube video while he waited for the other two to appear from their rooms. He got so engrossed in his video rabbit hole that he jumped when he heard someone approaching the lounge area. 

“Woah, just me, not a house intruder,” PJ said, holding out his hands in front of his body in the universal sign for ‘no harm’. 

“Well, that’s a thought I hadn’t considered,” Dan said, his heart rate slowing down as the momentary panic receded. “Home invaders. Is that a problem around here?”   
  
“No, but Phil was always concerned it would happen,” PJ said, like he hadn’t just dropped a giant bomb on Dan. 

“Wot,” Dan said, tilting his head like a deranged dog. “Why would Phil have cared about home invaders here?”

“He lived here? Before he broke his ankle? Then his mom didn’t want him near all the stairs, so he moved back home,” PJ explained before continuing. “I don’t know how he thought a home invader would get up to the fifth floor, but he was convinced that some day we’d have a home invader.”

Dan was smiling and nodding but inside he was scrambling to process what PJ just explained to him. He was living in Phil Lester’s old bedroom. He was living in his idol’s old flat, with his friends, and Dan wanted to scream. Someday PJ and Chris would complain to Phil about how annoying Dan was. 

“You okay mate?” PJ aked, waving a hand in front of Dan’s face. “You look catatonic.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dan said, snapping out of his haze. “Just a bit drowsy from my nap still. It takes me a while to wake up.”

“Ahhhh,” PJ said, sounding sympathetic. “And here I am nattering on.” 

“It’s okay, I need to wake up anyway,” Dan said, hoping he wasn’t so deep in his lie that he’d never emerge. “So what games do you have?”   
  
That launched PJ into a whole spiel about the gaming systems and games they had in the house. Dan looked over at the TV cabinet where they were stored and could feel himself vibrate in excitement. It had been a while since he had had a lads night, much less one that was just hanging out and playing video games. Most of the guys back home had grown out of their gamer stage and started obsessing over girls, so most of their hang outs were done in areas where they believed girls would be. Mostly at parties Dan didn’t feel comfortable at or at fast food places Dan couldn’t eat at because of his “diet”. So he and PJ talked video games until Chris woke up, whining down the hall that he was starving. 

“That’s what you get for not eating breakfast,” PJ shouted back.

“But it’s  _ naan’t _ what I wanted,” Chris said, making finger guns at PJ who groaned into a pillow. Dan didn’t manage to hide his laughter, which made Chris light up.

“Thank you Daniel, my new best friend,” Chris said, sticking his tongue out at PJ.

“You wound me, Chris,” PJ said, dramatically clasping his hand to his chest. “I thought we shared something special.” 

“That was before you insulted my pun,” Chris complained. 

“It was bad and you know it,” PJ said, pointing a finger over Dan’s chest accusingly at Chris. 

Chris shook his head and looked at Dan. “I ca _ naan _ t believe he doesn’t appreciate bread based puns.” 

“I guess you can say they don’t  _ wheat  _ my appetite,” PJ said.

“You don’t have to be so  _ sourdough _ ,” Dan cut in, causing both PJ and Chris to erupt in laughter after a moment. 

“You’ll fit right in,” PJ said after he was done laughing. “So what do we want to order lads?”

“Butter chicken,” Dan and Chris said in unison, Dan turning and holding out his hand for a high five. 

“Boring,” PJ said with a sigh, leaning his curly head back against the top of the couch. 

“Just because you like throwing up because you ordered something too spicy doesn’t mean the rest of us do,” Chris said, checking his nails before biting at them.

“It’s called adventure,” PJ said dramatically.

“Mate, that just sounds painful,” Dan said, looking over at PJ. 

“It just burns so good,” PJ said with a happy sigh. “But fine, I’ll order your boring butter chicken.”   
  
“Thank you,” Chris called out to PJ as PJ got up to go call the takeaway place. “You’re the best.”

PJ looked over at Chris and gave him the okay symbol before cheerfully starting to talk to the person on the other end of the phone with a familiarity that reassured Dan this was a weekly thing and not something they were making up to make him feel included. Dan looked back at Chris who was browsing through his phone, relaxed into the couch cushions. Dan felt himself relax back a bit instead of sitting ramrod straight like he had been, scrolling through his phone. Chris had a very relaxed aura around him that Dan appreciated, even if he got more riled up when he was around PJ. 

Dan barely noticed how long PJ had been gone until the third part of the couch dipped down on Dan’s left side. Dan felt a little claustrophobic, feeling the other two boys’ body heat so close to his own. He wanted to get up and sit in the comfy looking chair across the way but he didn’t want to come across as rude or put off. 

“Order should be here in about forty minutes,” PJ said. “Now, let’s play some Mario Kart. Loser has to answer the door.”

“Sounds fair,” Dan said, seeing Chris nod out of the corner of his eye. 

“Luckily we still have three remotes; Phil left his here,” PJ said as he got up and walked across the room, bending down in front of the TV console to grab the remotes. “It’s nice because now we can test Phil’s theory that his remote was bad and that’s why he always lost.”

Chris let out a snort next to Dan.

“He just couldn’t stand losing,” Chris said. 

“Well, I hope you’re ready to join him. I’m a Mario Kart fiend,” Dan said with a cocky smile on his lips.

“Yeah, right, Howell,” Chris said with a derisive snort.   
  
“Dream on,” PJ said, booting up the Wii. He tossed a remote with a blue jelly sleeve on it to Dan and one with a green sleeve to Chris, while keeping the purple one to himself. PJ joined them back on the couch and they were playing within minutes. 

Dan lost the first match, his hands not having used a Wii in so long, but won the next two. Chris stayed in second consistently, but PJ had dropped to the bottom after Dan had taken the lead. Dan was on a high when the doorbell rang. 

“Get up PJ,” Dan said, knocking his foot against PJ’s ankle. 

“Fucker,” PJ muttered under his breath, making Dan flush and turn to apologize immediately. 

“Sorry, I just, you said loser grabs it and,” Dan started babbling, feeling his pulse jump up a little from the nerves. He didn’t mean to step on any toes.

“It’s fine,” PJ said, waving him off easily. “I have lost so far, but just you wait, there’s a glorious comeback awaiting all of you. You’ll see, you’ll all see!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris said, ignoring him completely, kicking out a leg to push against PJ’s thigh. “Go get the food peasant.”

Dan laughed as he watched that interaction, the Wii remote dangling loosely off his wrist. When PJ returned, balancing food as he attempted to put his wallet back in his back pocket, Dan felt guilt well up in him. “How much do I owe you PJ?”

“Nothing,” PJ said as he set the bag of food down on the scratched up coffee table. “Consider it a housewarming present.”

“Are you sure? I can pay,” Dan said, sounding a little more insistent. 

“I promise, it’s fine. Pay one of the other weekends,” PJ said, sounding like he was trying to placate Dan. Dan felt himself relax at that compromise. 

“Deal,” Dan said, holding out a hand for PJ to shake. PJ shook it before grinning. Dan felt his heart skip a beat in a way he would never admit to in a million years.

“Okay Daniel, since you’re new, you get to choose: rum or vodka?” Chris asked cheerfully.

“But it’s Sunday,” Dan said, feeling himself blink in confusion.

“Well, we were going to do this yesterday but you were holed up in your room. It’s a tradition,” Chris explained. “Well, it’s only happened once before when we all moved in together, but if you do it, then we’ll have a tradition.”

“But we have practice tomorrow,” Dan explained weakly, feeling his stomach drop. He didn’t want to disappoint them or ruin the budding comradery that had been building all day but he also didn’t want to show up to his first practice hungover. 

“Oh live a little Daniel. You don’t have to get drunk and dance on a table again… unless you want to,” PJ said, wiggling his eyebrows in a salacious manner. 

Dan blinked. “I danced on a table?”   
  
“Yeah. Not bad either,” Chris said, standing up. “So you don’t need to drink that much again, but have a drink with us Dan.”

Dan felt himself squirm under the scrutiny of both PJ and Chris.

“Rum?” he said, his conviction a bit weak as PJ and Chris high-fived each other. 

“Excellent,” they said in unison and Dan decided it was very much not.

-

The floor was nice, Dan decided. Excellent even. It was so sturdy and soft with the carpet. He had been laying down here for what felt like hours and they had been talking about video games and movies and tv. Dan couldn’t remember the last time he had had this much fun with boys his age. Most of the guys he had hung out with had been obsessed with getting the attention of girls or getting absolutely blitzed. Dan had had a girlfriend and wasn’t able to get blitzed, much to their ridicule. It was nice to talk to some guys and not have to explain himself or get called a variety of insults (even if he’s sure they were in good fun).

“This carpet is so soft,” Dan thought. At least he thought he thought it until PJ and Chris started laughing.

“Howell, you’re...you’re such a lightweight,” Chris said through giggles as he stared down at Dan from the couch.

“You’re a lightweight,” Dan accused, pointing a finger at Chris. How dare Chris call him a light weight! He had drank so much rum and juice that he felt warm from it, but he wasn’t  _ drunk _ . 

Chris let out another giggle at that and PJ snorted.

“Let’s get you to bed. It’s late,” PJ said, getting off the couch. He swayed a little on his feet, but came over and helped Dan to his feet. Dan grabbed on to his arm and let himself be heaved upwards. He laughed as he kind of wobbled in place for a second but followed PJ down the hall. He walked carefully to the door of his room, making sure not to hit the hallway on either side of him. 

He went into his room, stripping out of his joggers and crawling under the covers. He set his alarm for 4:30 (old habits die hard, Dan thought with a snort) and plugged in his phone. He was surprised when a few minutes later PJ appeared back in his room, setting a glass and some pills on the nightstand next to his bed. 

“Thank you,” Dan said quietly into his room.

“You’re welcome,” PJ replied. “Can’t have you showing up tomorrow looking like ass. That would really send Kathryn off the deep end.”

“I don’t want her to send me back,” Dan admitted, his chest feeling warm as he stared up at PJ who was lit up by the moonlight coming in through the window.

“Mate, she’s not going to send you back for showing up hungover,” PJ said with a laugh. “Promise.”

“Okay,” Dan breathed out on a sigh before shutting his eyes. “Night PJ.”   
  
“Night Dan,” PJ said, leaving the room and shutting the door.

Even though Dan knew he should be sleeping, he couldn’t help but stay awake for a little while longer. He was so excited for tomorrow. He could barely contain it because tomorrow he, Daniel Howell, would be skating at Sheffield Ice. He was going to be training among the best of the best in England. He had managed to trick them into thinking he was a good enough skater to be here.

He couldn’t wait to skate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to thank everyone for their kind comments and kudos. you guys keep encouraging me to write, even when every other day i debate just deleting this story, lol.


	9. da capo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> da capo (italian: 'from the beginning') usually abbreviated to 'dc' at the end of a section of a piece, meaning to go back to the beginning 
> 
> also: dan's first day at the rink

Dan sat up the next morning as his alarm went off. His head wasn’t _killing_ him, but he still took the pills PJ left on the nightstand as a precaution. He got up and stretched, looking at his clock when he was done. It was 4:45 am, plenty of time to make it to the rink as long as the bus wasn’t late. Or maybe he could jog there? He shrugged and figured he would figure it out after breakfast. He went out to the kitchen, doing his best to stay quiet and turned on the light. He dug through the cabinet for some bread and went to the fridge for a protein shake… only to realize he had never put any in his cart at Asda yesterday. 

Dan sighed and shut the fridge door, rubbing at his gritty eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding the bread. This was fine, he thought. He would live without a protein shake for one morning. He opened his bag of bread and popped two pieces into the toaster. He walked back to his cabinet and looked for some jam, his mood souring as he realized he didn’t pick any of that up either. Well, at least he had peanut butter but it seemed too early to eat peanut butter. He went back to the fridge and grabbed a thing of margarine, swearing he would buy whoever’s it was a new container at some point.

He was definitely jogging to the rink today, he thought as he smeared the margarine on the toast. 

After eating, he went back to his room. He heard someone on the other side of his wall, PJ or Chris, wake up and start moving around the room. Dan got dressed and grabbed his pre-packed duffle bag before leaving the flat, walking quickly down the flights of stairs that met him. He pulled up directions on his phone and took off towards the rink, his excitement making him feel like he was flying there even though he was just walking. 

Upon reaching the rink, he ran into another problem. Where did he enter? He was so used to going through the back entrance of Ice Palace that when he tried the back door to find it locked, he was thrown for a loop. He wished he could text Chris or PJ, but he hadn’t grabbed their numbers the day before. He sighed and went back to the front of the massive building, hoping he would run into someone who looked like they were here to skate early. He sat on the front steps for about ten minutes, slowly growing more nervous until both PJ and Chris showed up, holding water bottles and talking to each other.

“Mate, you already got in,” PJ said with a laugh, pulling a lanyard out from under his jacket before heading towards the back of the building. Dan followed them. “You don’t have to get here that early.”  
  
“I was excited,” Dan said with a shrug, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Was he going to end up with a reputation as a kiss-ass?

“There’s excited and there’s coming here at like five-fifteen in the morning,” Chris said, his tone sounding like it was teasing but Dan couldn’t tell. “You’re going to make the rest of us look bad.”

“Hang with us tomorrow and we’ll get you here on time, we promise,” PJ said. 

“I’m just used to being at the rink before anyone else,” Dan explained, watching as PJ pressed a card attached to his lanyard against a small black box next to the back door. A light lit up green and they were granted access. They all shuffled in, Dan walking behind them, taking in all the hallways he hadn’t been able to walk down when he was just here to audition. “Like I used to be the only person there until eight.”

PJ whistled. “What I wouldn’t give for private ice time. I haven’t had that since I lived in Peterborough.”

“Same,” Chris cut in. “Not in Peterbourough obviously, but I haven’t had private ice time since I lived back home.”

“I had it once when I came in at five, but no instructors meant I was just limbering up for an hour,” PJ said after a considerable pause, using his badge to buzz them in through another door. 

This door led to a locker room. It was spacious and didn’t smell like hockey players sweat like Ice Palace did. Well, had, Dan thought morosely and then wrinkled his nose at feeling sad about sweat. “Isn’t there a hockey team here too?”

“They have their own locker room. There was too much tension between the skaters and the hockey players so we got our own. Swank, isn't it?” PJ asked, spreading his arms out and spinning around, nearly smacking Chris in the face.

“Wochit,” Chris said, ducking. 

“Sorry,” PJ replied, not sounding sorry in the slightest. 

Dan looked around for a locker without a lock on it. He found one and opened it, immediately pulling out the schedule Katie, his new coach, had made for him and hanging it in his lock with one of the stray magnets in there. He pulled out his work out gear and hung it on the built in hooks in the locker before he went through his normal stretching out routine. It was a repeat of the one he did at home, but this time he took his time, making sure he was actually loose and limber instead of simply rushing through it to get his blood pumping. He nearly groaned when he dropped down into his splits, feeling the burn on his inner thighs. It had been a few days since he had truly stretched out like this and his body was punishing him for it. 

“You alright?” PJ asked from across the room. 

“Yeah, just a little tight,” Dan replied, his voice a little strained as he focused on trying to bend himself in half and have his chest touch the floor.

“That’s what she said, ayeyooo,” Chris said, holding out his hand for PJ to high five. He was bare chested and before Dan looked away, he caught a glimpse of a happy trail on his stomach, which wasn’t ripped but certainly toned. 

Dan felt himself laugh, bubbling out of him unexpectedly at the joke, nearly choking on it. He held his position for a few more minutes, looking anywhere but at PJ and Chris as he got up, suddenly a little self-conscious. He knew he had a little bit of a pudge in his stomach, not as ripped as some other skaters. It didn’t help that he hadn’t changed in front of anyone in close to a year and a half. He was glad he had chosen to wear some workout gear to the rink instead of wanting to change here today. As Dan finished stretching, a few more boys joined them in the locker room, greeting PJ and Chris loudly. They started changing and Dan studiously looked away, dropping on to the nearest bench and starting to do up his skates. He didn’t need another Wooden Peg Incident after all, Dan thought as he tightened the laces on his skates a little rougher than usual at the memory. 

“Hi,” a voice to his left said, causing Dan to jump a little. “Who are you?"

“My name’s Dan,” Dan replied, a little on edge as the black haired boy started to strip.

“Oh! You’re the one I was going to room with before PJ and Chris scooped you up!” the other boy said, slightly muffled by the sweater over his face. When he was done he stuck out a hand for Dan to shake. “I’m Oliver. Olly really.”  
  
“Nice to meet you Olly,” Dan said with a smile, making sure to keep his eyes above Olly’s clavicles. Olly beamed at him and threw his shirt half-hazardly into the locker next to Dan’s. “How long have you been coming here?”   
  
“Mmmm, two years? It’s great; I’ve really learned a lot. It’s a shame that I can’t do it full time though,” Olly said, sounding truly put out. “Fuckin’ A levels man.” 

Dan nearly felt himself choke. Just how old was Olly? “Which ones?”  
  
“Philosophy, Psychology-,” Olly started before Dan got excited. 

“You’re doing psychology too?”

“Too?”  
  
“I… um...I’m resitting my A level psychology exam this June,” Dan explained, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Mate, I swear psychology was made to just trip people up,” Olly complained. “Like the work is easy but why do I have to label a synapse diagram or know where certain brain cortexes are?”  
  
Dan laughed. “I know! I’m trying to learn about psychology, not be a neuroscientist!”

“Exactly! Hey, do you want to study together? I have a few mates who are also doing psychology but honestly, they’re kind of boneheads,” Olly explained. 

“I could be a bonehead too,” Dan teased.

“True. I have to come up with a bonehead detector test then,” Olly said with a laugh as he finished changing. 

“If I pass, we’ll study together?” Dan asked, genuinely curious.

“HOWELL, you coming?” PJ called from across the room.

“Yeah, hold on a sec!” Dan shouted back, before looking sheepishly at Olly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Olly said with a smile, like he hadn’t just been interrupted. “Well, let’s hurry up and get out on the ice.”

“Yeah… how do I get there?”  
  
“I’ll lead you there, new kid,” Olly said reassuringly. “I’ve got him, PJ!”

“Okay, see you on the ice!” PJ shouted across the room, waving at them like he was saying goodbye for good and not about to see them in a few minutes. 

Olly sat down on the bench next to Dan, continuing their conversation about psychology A levels as he laced his skates up. By the end of the conversation, Olly declared Dan wasn’t a bonehead and could study with him. That ought to make Dad happy, Dan thought as he followed Olly out to the ice. 

It was just as beautiful as when Dan came to audition. More beautiful even. There were no divets in the ice yet, smooth from the Zamboni. Sure there were a few people (including some girls) lazily skating back and forth on the ice to warm up, but the ice didn’t look like someone had come out and done 100 flip jumps or something. Dan followed Olly on the ice, where Olly turned to him.

“Well Dan, this is where we must part,” Olly said, dramatically clasping his chest. 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” Dan said with a grin before Olly skated off to warm up, his laugh echoing. Dan felt himself relax as Olly skated away, feeling less like he was putting on a mask to please someone. He glided on the ice, going through his on ice warm ups as quickly as he could before the clock hit 6:30 when a coach (an army of coaches?) would appear on the ice to coach them. 

All Dan knew about his new coach was that she was named Katie, she was so blonde she looked a little gray, and she wrote terrifyingly detailed emails. He had gotten an email where she introduced herself and had spelled out her methodology and planned schedule to get him ready for the season this year. This week she was focused on assessing his skills, getting him set up with the trainers, and then she would get a more detailed schedule for the following weeks put together. 

Dan was a little nervous about his scheduling, since he knew that all of it would now be shared ice time with other skaters. While he had shared ice time before, especially over the past month when he would practice aimlessly, he had grown spoiled of his two hours a day one-on-one time with Lena. He would no longer have the kind of privacy he had enjoyed with that; he had been able to keep his failures (and successes) a secret. Now he was worried every mistake would be amplified, especially since this was with people he hadn’t known since he could crawl. 

Dan was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a moment to notice that the other skaters seemed to be divvying themselves up into three distinct groups and that there were three new skaters on the ice. At least, they looked new, especially because two of them were women. Dan stared at them for a moment before recognizing one of them as Katie. He waited to see what group Katie skated over to, before skating his way over, although he didn’t recognize anyone in the small group.

“-okay and Jeremy, work on your camel spins. All of them, but especially your catch-foot. It’s been sloppy,” Katie was saying as Dan skated up. She smiled at him and finished doling out instructions to the other four skaters. When she finished, the other skaters (who Dan was probably going to need to learn the names of at some point) skated off to do her bidding. She turned to Dan and beckoned him to come close to her. 

“Daniel, right? Good to meet you,” she said, holding out a hand. 

“I prefer Dan,” Dan said as he took her hand in his (amazed at how much smaller and frailer it felt in his) and shook it. Up close, Katie was even older than he thought, her face showing signs of aging. She was probably a little older than his mom, he thought with some finality, either that or teaching skaters aged her early. 

“Well Daniel, it’s good to finally meet you in person. Now, are you warmed up?” she asked, ignoring Dan’s preference about his name. Dan nodded and she smiled. “Good. Now let's find somewhere a little less crowded; we have a lot to get through today.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dan said, following her to a less crowded corner of the rink. There were twelve other guys on the ice, along with two other coaches, so finding this corner was a godsend really. Dan looked around and saw PJ talking closely with a guy who must have been a coach with how animated they were talking with each other. Dan hoped his relationship with Katie would be like that: open, honest, communicative. Something close to what he had with Lena. His heart gave a pang at the thought of Lena and he promised himself he would call her later and tell her how his first day went. 

“Okay, let’s begin,” Katie said, with a cheerful sounding clap, clipboard tucked under an arm. She pulled out a pen and clicked it open. “Let’s start with your spins.”

The next two hours were grueling, or maybe Dan was imagining it being worse than it was. He was hyper aware of everything he was doing, wanting to do his best, to show he belonged here. It must have shown somehow because everytime he looked over at Katie, waiting for the next command, she seemed to be frowning. She asked him to repeat spins a few times and those made Dan feel worse about himself. 

“Well, we have some work to do, but nothing unmanageable,” Katie said, clicking her pen again. “I have to say, you do lovely camel spins. Can you do any quad jumps? I noticed all your jumps today were doubles or triples.”  
  
“Not consistently,” Dan said, honest. 

“Hmmm,” Katie said, reclicking her pen and writing that down in her notes. She looked over at the bleachers and let out a sigh. “Poor lad.”

Dan looked over to where she was staring and saw a figure with black hair and a flannel shirt sitting in the front row of the bleachers, crutches propped up next to him. He was hunched forward, watching the ice intensely, face unreadable because of how far away they were, but Dan could imagine it would be filled with longing. 

“Yeah,” Dan said in agreement, staring at Phil for a moment longer before turning back to Katie, who was going over her notes. 

“That took a little longer than expected, but overall, you’re free to go if you want after a cool down. I know you have to get set up with a trainer today, but tomorrow be ready for a longer day and to get to work,” Katie said, holding out a hand to Dan again. 

“Thank you for your time today,” Dan said as he shook her hand. 

“Of course,” Katie said with a smile before yelling for Jeremy to come over. 

Dan skated off to do a cool down skate, shooting one last look at the figure on the bleachers. When he was done, he looked around to see if PJ or Chris were done, hoping one would be able to take him to the trainer’s room. Both of them were still skating however, so Dan skated to the door of the rink and went to go find a space on the bleachers to wait for them. As he was sitting down, he realized he didn’t have his phone, so he would have nothing to occupy him until there was a break in the day or someone took pity on him and led him to the trainers. Dan let out a sigh, threading his fingers together, before turning his attention to the ice and watching the other skaters practice. 

Dan turned his head away after a few minutes when he heard the sound of metal clanking together. He looked down the line of bleachers and saw Phil standing up and trying to arrange his crutches under his arms. Dan turned his head away for a moment before looking back. He didn’t want to watch and be labeled a creeper, but if Phil fell down, he was the only person close enough to help him if the need arose. Dan turned his head away again as Phil began to walk down the pathway. He wasn’t expecting Phil to stop in front of him, a small smile on his lips. 

“Hey, newbie,” Phil said with a wave, resting on the crutches with his injured foot raised in the air like a flamingo.

“Hey,” Dan said, looking up at Phil and returning the smile. “How’s your foot doing?”  
  
“Healing,” Phil said, letting his boot drop slowly so it was balancing on the "tips" of his toes. “Supposedly.”   
  
“Well, that’s good,” Dan said, a little self conscious at how intently Phil seemed to be staring at him. He didn’t think the other had even blinked; Dan’s eyes felt dry just staring at him.

“Well, Katie seems pleased with you,” Phil said.

“What makes you say that?” Dan asked, leaning forward slightly, genuinely curious as to why Phil would think that. 

“She didn’t have you go longer,” Phil replied. “When Jeremy joined, she took three and a half hours to decide on him.”

“But she had me repeat spins,” Dan said, feeling confused. 

“Yeah, that’s normal.”

“She said it took longer than expected,” Dan said, remembering what Katie had said towards the end of their session. 

“I know, I was surprised it took that long too,” Phil said. “But Katie gets picky and she wants to make sure you’re showing your best. She means well, even if her process is a little weird.”

“Was she your coach?” Dan asked, feeling his brow furrow. 

“Yes, she is… was,” Phil said, tripping over his words a bit. “She will be next season. I uh. I’m taking this upcoming season off because of the foot injury.”

Dan felt bad for him; he knew how difficult it felt to feel like you were spiraling and not know what you were doing with your life. He had just recently gone through it himself before deciding on skating. But what did you do when you didn’t have that option? In Phil’s case, it seemed to be obsessively watching others skate.

“Er, did you want to sit?” Dan asked, patting the seat next to him. “I mean, you don’t have to but it’s probably more comfortable than standing. Not that I’m trying to-”

Phil cut him off with a laugh, awkwardly turning around to sit next to Dan, who took the crutches from him and leaned them against the bleachers. Dan heard Phil give out a sigh of relief as he sat, massaging his thigh slightly. “Thank you. The boot is heavy as bricks.”

“Of course,” Dan said, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed that he didn’t ask before. “So...what are the names of everyone on the rink? I figure I should ask an expert and all.”

Phil smiled, beamed really, and started pointing out different people on the ice, giving tidbits about each person as he went. Phil seemed to be a bit of a gossip, Dan thought with a smile as Phil talked about the time that Ethan got drunk and called to serenade his ex at a party. Phil being a gossip didn’t stop Dan from laughing at the image of the stoic looking guy Phil pointed out crying on the phone when she had hung up.

“That’s awful,” Dan said as he tried to choke down some of his own giggles. 

“I just don’t know him that well! That’s the only story I have about him,” Phil exclaimed. 

“It’s still awful,” Dan said, wiping at his eyes which had teared up from how hard he had laughed at Phil’s description. He looked over at Phil, who was smiling at him. Dan smiled back. He was about to ask for more stories when Chris came off the rink and over to them.

“Hey Dan, Katie asked me to show you where the trainer’s office was,” Chris said as he waved energetically at Phil, who waved back just as enthusiastically. “Hey Phil!”

“Chris,” Phil exclaimed, doing his best to stand up and hug Chris. “Are you lads being nice to Dan?”

“I’m always nice,” Chris said in an affronted tone. “We actually got him a little tipsy last night.”

“Oh, did you now?” Phil asked, laughing a little. “I wouldn’t call that nice since it’s his first day today.”

Chris laughed, reaching out to shove at Phil’s shoulder before freezing in place. He retracted his hand before continuing as if nothing had happened. “You and PJ got me drunk for my first day. Properly pissed.”

Phil smiled, but didn’t deny the claim either, as he turned to look at Dan. “It was awful. He threw up in the rubbish bin in the locker room before coming out and being asked to do spins.”

“It was awful,” Chris agreed with a shiver, as if the memory was coldness sweeping through his bones. “You were smart to not drink that much, Dan.”

“Thank you,” Dan said with a smile. “You lot really know how to party up here, don’t you?”  
  
Phil looked at Dan with a confused look before shaking his head. “No, not really. Clubbing is few and far in between up here.”

Dan didn’t know how to articulate how that statement was reassuring in a way. He was still embarrassed by the way that they had gotten him back to his hotel room, not that he remembered how. He assumed he had been a handful though and was glad he wouldn’t be doing a repeat performance by going out often up here. “Oh.”

“Well, I’ll get Dan here to the trainers. You sit down and heal that beautiful foot, Phil,” Chris said as he linked arms with Dan and gave him a tug. Dan wondered if Phil’s foot were like other ice skater’s (scarred from blisters, torn up, littered with band aids) and or if they were actually beautiful. “Come along Daniel.”

“Bye, Phil,” Dan said as he looked over his shoulder.

“Bye, Dan,” Phil said with a wave before sitting back down and turning back to watch the rink, a look of longing so naked on his face Dan felt invasive seeing it. 

  
  



	10. quartet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quartet: a set of four people or things

The next few weeks went like this. Wake up at 4:45am. Have breakfast, which was a protein shake. Leave for the rink at 5:15am with PJ and Chris. Skate for four hours with an hour of “private” lessons with Katie every day. Go to Louise, his trainer, to work out for another hour and a half of off ice training. Go home and collapse on the couch. Fall asleep on said couch until someone nudged him awake. Stare catatonic into space until someone suggested food or video games. Go to his room and fall asleep by 10pm.

Repeat.

Dan felt like he had been living in a daze over the last week in particular. Katie was more exacting than Lena had been and she had spent the past week just drilling him on basics while they tried to agree on music for his programs so they could contact the choreographer. Dan felt like he was being punished for not liking any of the music that Katie had suggested, especially every time she pushed him to perfect his quads. He felt the punishment in every ice bath he had taken, every stretch out he had done with Louise, every unprompted nap on the couch he had taken. He couldn’t even tell if his skating had gotten better or not; he just felt tired all the time. He didn’t even realize it was a Friday until someone shoved at his shoulder as he laid on the couch, dozing. 

“What,” he mumbled into the arm that he had been using as a pillow.

“Wake up,” PJ whined, shaking Dan’s shoulder again. “I’m boooooored.”

“Go find Chris,” Dan said, marginally louder and a little more awake, using his free arm to swat at PJ who kept dodging him. “ ‘m sleeping.”

“He’s out,” PJ said, stepping to the side to avoid Dan swatting at him.

“Out?”   
  
“Out. He’s picking up snacks for tonight,” PJ explained as he sat on the couch, forcing Dan to curl up into a ball on the other half of the couch. 

“What are you guys doing tonight?” Dan asked, curious what Chris would need to go out in the early March chill to buy snacks specifically for tonight. 

“Well, since the elevator is finally fixed,” PJ explained, “we were going to have Phil come round to celebrate.”

Ah yes,  _ the elevator _ . Dan’s soon-to-be best friend had spent most of this week getting fixed after being broken for six months. Dan knew when he had come in earlier they were still in the process of working on it but that had been...two? three? hours ago so they might be done by now for all Dan knew. He was an ice skater, not an elevator scientist.

“Wait, Phil’s coming over?” Dan asked, something finally sticking through the rapidly clearing sleep fog. 

“Is that a problem?” PJ asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “I mean, you guys seem like you’re mates.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just uh. Didn’t want to intrude,” Dan said. Because what PJ said wasn’t wrong; over the past few weeks, Phil would seek Dan out for some reason or another and just  _ talk  _ to him, not always about skating. Phil would walk, well hop, next to Dan on the way to Dan’s off-ice training and hang around for a little bit when Dan was stretching out. Dan wasn’t sure why Phil Lester had chosen him as someone to come and talk to, but he would say that they were on civil terms. Friendly even, but Dan didn’t want to assume Phil was a friend now either. 

“Mate, it’ll be fun. You wouldn’t be intruding, unless you fall asleep midrace,” PJ joked. 

“Are you sure?” Dan asked, biting at a hangnail.

“I promise you won’t be intruding. Now, come on. Let’s pick up a little.”

“Nowwwww, it comes out. The real reason you woke me up,” Dan joked before letting out a shriek as PJ tried to yank him off the couch. Dan kicked out at him and PJ held up his hands in the universal sign of surrender as Dan got off the couch anyway to help. Dan and PJ managed to get the living room picked up quickly and Dan excused himself to go to his room. 

After closing the door, he leaned back against it and looked frantically around his room. Would Phil want to look at his old room at all? Like a check in to make sure Dan wasn’t destroying it? Oh shit, was there going to be like… an inspection? Dan knew that some of his friends in Uni got health and safety inspections in the dorm. Was Phil going to do that to him? Dan looked around the room, feeling his panic start to rise at the idea. It looked clean enough, not super messy, more lived in than anything but he couldn’t be sure if it would pass an inspection or something. Dan was thinking about cleaning when he took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, counting to ten until he was calm. He didn’t need to do that. Phil probably wasn’t even going to come into his old room anyway. Everything was fine. Dan shook his head and changed into some sweats and his favorite Muse shirt instead of cleaning, even though the idea was stuck in his head. 

He did his best to ignore it but after changing, he immediately gathered up all the clothes on the floor and shoved it into his wardrobe since his dirty clothes hamper was starting to get overwhelmingly full. Just doing that made the room look better and quieted the mantra of  _ cleancleanclean _ that had been going through his head. He made a vow to himself that this weekend he would finally do his laundry somewhere and then clean the rest of his room up. After frantically shoving some stuff under his bed and adjusting his fringe, he went back out to the lounge. 

PJ was sprawled across the couch texting. Instead of disturbing him, Dan crawled into the chair and leaned back, shutting his eyes as his leg started to jiggle. He shouldn’t be nervous. This was Phil. Phil who had been nice to him for the past few weeks. Who had been talking to him about Pokemon and video games just the other day and hadn’t said anything that would lead Dan to assume that Phil disliked him or would be performing a health and safety inspection on him.  _ But _ , Dan’s mind supplied,  _ there was a difference between five minute conversations and spending a whole evening with someone.  _

A whole evening. Dan hadn’t even thought that far ahead; he was still focused on the first five minutes of Phil being here, where Dan was convinced Phil would see his old room in less than perfect condition and knock Dan unconscious with a crutch. He hadn’t thought about the rest of the evening. His leg started to jiggle faster as a few scenarios about how he could cram his foot in his mouth went blazing across his mind. 

He nearly bolted back to his room when he heard the front door of the flat open and then figured it was probably Chris. He would just explain to both PJ and Chris that he was still tired (not a complete lie) and was unable to hang out tonight. Then he wouldn’t stick his foot in his mouth in front of Phil Lester and ruin the little conversations they had almost everyday. Win-win for everyone, Dan thought as he listened or someone to walk into the lounge. 

“We’re here,” Dan heard Chris excitedly yell from the front of the flat.

Wait...we? Oh no. This was too soon, Dan thought as he heard the somewhat familiar sound of Phil’s crutches (though they were muffled by the carpet) in the hallway as well. How was he supposed to make an escape right in front of Phil? Phil would think he didn’t like him or something, Dan thought as he leaped out of his chair like a spooked cat as Chris and Phil came into the lounge.

“Hey,” Phil said with a smile when he saw Dan, leaning forward on his crutches. 

“Hi,” Dan replied with a little salute. 

He wished he hadn’t given the salute as he watched Chris give him a side eye and start snickering at him. Phil’s face didn’t change as he hopped over to PJ and balanced on one crutch to poke PJ with the other. 

“Hey, budge up,” Phil said, his accent coming out a little thicker than Dan remembered. “My leg huuuurrrrts.”   
  
“That excuse won’t work forever, Phil,” PJ said, his tone joking but Dan heard himself suck in a breath of air because it seemed a bit harsh. Phil didn’t seem to mind; he just poked PJ with the crutch until the other sat up. Phil sat on the couch slowly. Dan watched as Pj and Phil get comfortable on the couch, their thighs touching. Chris finished unloading the bags of goodies on the coffee table, a variety of healthy veggie chips and some not as healthy (Dan wanted to dump the whole bag in his mouth), and sat down on the couch on Phil’s other side, his thigh also touching Phil’s.

Dan stared a few more seconds, wondering when he would hit that point of comfortability with his roommates. Was that an over time thing or would Dan always be just a bit afraid to touch another guy? Had he been doing male friendships all wrong? Had-?

“You alright mate?” PJ asked, staring at Dan with a look of concern. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dan repeated, looking away from their thighs and up at their faces. “So, who’s ready to get their ass kicked?”

“You’re on, Howell,” PJ said while Phil snorted. 

Dan looked over at Phil and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”   
  
“You’re not going to win, I am,” Phil said as Chris and PJ both elbowed him. “Ow! This is abuse!”

“Really?” Dan asked, feeling one of his eyebrows raise. “You think you can beat me, resident Mario Kart master?”

“Really,” Phil confirmed, looking confident. 

“Oh, it’s on, Lester,” Dan muttered as the Wii loaded on, ready to obliterate the other boy, nerves about talking to him already forgotten.

-

“Again?” Phil whined, looking close to throwing his remote straight into the TV after his fourth time of coming in an abysmal position. Phil was placing above some of the bots, but everyone else in the room kept placing above him. Dan tried not to smirk but he must not have done a good job since Phil turned and glared at him. “How are you so good?”   
  
“It’s a gift from the gods,” Chris said with a laugh.

“No, it’s from Satan,” Phil said with a pout, leaning back into the couch. 

“Yes, it is I, Beezelbub! Fear me and my ability to turn,” Dan joked, wiggling his fingers to give a spooky vibe. PJ and Chris laughed, but Phil leaned further back into the couch, his lower lip sticking out gently. 

Dan looked away, feeling his hands go clammy at the sight. 

“We could uh, watch a movie if you’re sick of losing?” Dan suggested tentatively, unable to help but rub it in a little; he always was a bit of a sore winner. 

“Please,” Phil said immediately, not even waiting for Chris or PJ to give an opinion. 

The rest of the night went by a lot faster than Dan was expecting until Phil’s ringtone went off close to eleven. It was a pretty but dramatic piano piece that gave Dan chills for the few seconds it went off. 

“Oh shoot,” Phil said before answering his phone. “Hello? Oh, you’re already here? Okay, I’ll be down in a few. No mum, I don’t need help. No… mum, I’ll be down in a minute. No one needs to… fine… fine mum, I’ll ask. See you in a few.”

Phil hung up and let out a sigh, slowly getting up. “Would one of you be able to walk me down? Mum’s worried I’m going to trip and fall again or something.”

“I’m too comfortable.” Chris said with a sigh, tilting his head further back into the top of the couch cushion. “PJ, you go.”   
  
“Nah,” was all PJ said.

‘You guys don’t have to, it’s fine,” Phil said, his shoulder coming forward a little like he was trying to make himself smaller. 

“Lazy asses,” Dan muttered as he stood up, looking at Phil who was standing awkwardly at the hallway leading to the front door. “I’ll walk you out, Phil.”

“Thanks, newbie,” PJ said, his tone sounding a lot more awake. Dan pushed at both Chris and PJ’s shoulders as he walked past them and joined Phil in the hallway. 

“Sorry about them,” Dan said, pointing over his shoulder at PJ and Chris.

“It’s fine,” Phil said as they walked to the front door. Leaving the apartment there was an awkward silence until they reached the elevator. 

Dan hit the button for the elevator and rocked back and forth on his feet as they waited for it to come up. The nerves from earlier were back in full force. It had been easy to forget that Phil Lester was… himself… when they had been in the lounge with PJ and Chris since Phil had been fooling around. But now that they were alone, Dan felt the nerves and awkwardness that he had been carrying around with him for nearly a month come rushing out. 

“So what’s your ringtone?” Dan asked.

“Hmm?” Phil hummed, looking over at Dan. His fringe had a little split in it. A splinge, Dan thought, barely restraining a giggle at the word he came up with.

“Your… ringtone,” Dan repeated, committing to this awkward conversation. “It was kinda cool.”

“Oh!” Phil said excitedly. “It’s a piano cover of Unravel.”

Dan felt himself blink at Phil. Was he supposed to know that song from somewhere?

“It’s uh. From Tokyo Ghoul,” Phil explained, making an aborted arm motion like he was going to reach up and rub his neck. It was a move Dan had seen in various interviews over the years.

Dan felt himself start to smile. “I knew I recognized it! It’s the opening song, right?”

“Yes!” Phil exclaimed before looking around, a guilty look on his face. Dan realized it was a little late and he hoped none of the other tenants had been disturbed. The elevator arrived and Phil got in first.

“Here, I’ll send you a link to the piano version. What’s your number?” Phil asked, pulling out his number. 

Dan was speechless. Phil wanted to send him a song. Scratch that, this was bigger. Phil wanted his number. He wasn’t just going to play it for him in the elevator and make Dan scramble to try and find it later. Phil was staring at Dan who felt his cheeks start to heat up.

“Sorry, I uh. Had to think of what it was for a second,” Dan said, lying (hopefully) smoothly. He held out his hand for Phil’s phone so he could enter his name as “ **:Dan** ” into his phone. He sent himself a smiley emoji before handing the phone back to Phil. The elevator dinged as they reached the ground floor. 

“C’mon,” Phil said, swinging his crutches outward to step out. “I think I need to show my mom proof that I didn’t just leave your flat alone.”

“Okay,” Dan said, feeling even more lightheaded than when he had entered his phone number into Phil’s phone. He hadn’t really seen Kathryn Lester (no, Mrs. Kathryn, Dan’s mind corrected) since he had moved in and he was taking that as a good sign. He wasn’t scared of her, just more convinced that if he wasn’t seeing her, he was doing well in the program and wasn’t going to lose his sponsorship. He walked out with Phil to where her car was parked a block down the road. Kathryn was waiting outside the car, leaning against the door and looking up at the night sky. She turned and smiled when she saw Dan and Phil approaching.

“There you are, child,” Kathryn said with an excited tone. “I thought maybe you had gotten lost. Hello Daniel! Did you boys have a good time tonight?”

“Hello Mrs. Kathryn,” Dan replied as she opened the car door. “And yeah, we had a good time.”

“Nothing too dangerous?” Kathryn asked, a slightly worried tone in her voice.

“Unless you count Phil being a sore loser, no,” Dan said with a smile gracing his lips before looking away guiltily. “I mean, uh…”

Kathryn was laughing as Phil made protesting sounds in the background as he carefully climbed into the car. Kathryn took Phil’s crutches from him and laid them down in the backseat as she spoke to Dan.“Phil has always been a bit of a sore loser, haven’t you love? One time, when he was oh… six? Seven? He didn’t place at a small competition and he cried for hours until we bought him a cheap medal from the poundshop.” 

“Mom,” Phil said, sounding absolutely mortified in the front seat of the car. 

“It’s okay love, every child goes through that phase at some point. The only difference is you didn’t grow out of it,” Kathryn said, giving Dan a conspiratorial wink as Phil started to complain again. “How have you been, Daniel? PJ and Chris not being too much trouble?”

“No, I think everything is going okay,” Dan said, surprised at how true it was. He was settling in okay. Sure, he was bone tired all the time, but over the past few weeks he thinks that he, PJ, and Chris had really bonded. Plus, he had a study date with Olly next week too. 

“That’s good,” Kathryn said, reaching out and giving Dan’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “Well, let me get this one home. It was nice seeing you, Daniel.”

“It was nice seeing you too, Mrs. Kathryn,” Dan said, peeking around her shoulder to wave at Phil. “Bye Phil. See you Monday?”   
  
“Yeah,” Phil said, smiling at Dan from his seat. “And I’ll send you that song we were talking about.”

“Thank you,” Dan said, feeling a smile creep across his face. “Bye.”

Dan waited until their car drove off before turning and walking back to the flat. He wasn’t even inside the flat by the time Phil had sent him a link to YouTube and a smiley face. Dan responded with a thank you and another smiley face.

Dan listened to the song Phil sent him until he fell asleep that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so as much as i've tried to keep things in the time frame that they belong in, I will be the first to admit that Tokyo Ghoul was not around in 2009. HOWEVER, I think that since I'm following the rules for ISA that said no lyrical pieces, i'm allowed to bend one little thing. forgive me : ) if you want to listen to the piano version I was envisioning, you can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sEQf5lcnj_o&feature=youtu.be)


	11. Berceuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Berceuse: a lullaby. Generally slow and undulating.

Dan spent most of the weekend with his headphones in, listening to music. Between cleaning his room properly, and needing some songs to present to Katie on Monday, he listened to music constantly. Even when rewatching a few Ghibli films, he was paying more attention to the music than the plot of the movie. Everything and nothing called to him at the same time, even after checking through his notebook of song ideas. He even thought about somehow getting an orchestral version of MCR songs and skating to those. Stupid ISU and their stupid music constraints. 

The only constant over the weekend was how Dan kept coming back to the song that Phil had sent him. He listened to it when he wanted to clear his mind a little bit, when he felt overwhelmed by all the music options that he kept going through. There was something soothing about the rhythm that made Dan keep repeatedly going back to it. Maybe it was the nostalgia of Tokyo Ghoul, Dan thought idly as the piano began to fade out for the hundredth time this weekend. It had been one of his favorite animes to watch for a while last year. Or maybe it was the fact that everytime he shut his eyes, he started to imagine a routine to the music. A camel spin there, a triple axel there as the music crescendoed, but he was pretty sure that Katie would never let him skate to this even if it was the only music that called to him.

Dan rolled over to stare at the wall, letting out a defeated sigh as one of his earbuds fell out of his ear. He hit repeat on the Youtube video and let himself seriously imagine that this was the music for his program. After imagining a few disjointed parts of what he could do, he opened his eyes and went out into the living room where Chris and PJ were playing video games, walking like a man on a mission.

“Hey lads,” Dan said, as he walked over to the chair in the living room. 

“‘Sup,” Chris said, looking around Dan’s as he walked in front of them to keep his eyes on the TV. Dan sat down and got comfortable before looking over at Chris and PJ, who were focused on the movie on the TV screen.

“How well do you know Katie?” Dan asked after watching the movie for a few minutes.

“Not that well, mate. Why?” PJ asked, looking over at Dan and then back at the movie.

“I think I finally found a song I want to use for my long program,” Dan explained. “The thing is I just don’t think she’ll like it.”

“Are there lyrics?” Chris cut in. “Because she’ll mostly be annoyed you tried that again probably.”

“No lyrics this time. Just piano. I might be able to find something that’s a proper orchestral arrangement, but so far I like how just the piano is,” Dan said, looking away a little, remembering the short period where he tried to learn the piano before he threw himself harder into figure skating. It had been the one other hobby he had tried until Gertrude Anderson ruined it by being unnecessarily evil. 

“Have you tried asking Phil?” PJ asked, his eyes not moving away from the screen. “Katie is his coach; he’ll know what she likes.”   


“Do you think he’ll mind me bothering him about that?” Dan asked as he bit his lower lip. Dan didn’t want to rub it in Phil’s face or anything that he was able to skate while the other couldn’t. Or that they shared the same coach. He also didn’t want to disturb Phil if he was busy.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Chris said, looking over at Dan, not nearly as engrossed with the movie as PJ was. “Do you need his number?”   
  
“No, um… he gave it to me the other night. He wanted to send me a link to a song,” Dan explained, feeling self-conscious about having Phil’s number. PJ paused the movie and looked over at Dan searchingly. It reminded Dan of the conversation about Dan’s dating life that they had had in Asda. Assessing in a way. He didn’t know what the other had found, but PJ smiled in a way that seemed encouraging before unpausing the movie.

“Text him. I’m sure he won’t mind,” PJ said, sounding nonchalant and not like he had been staring into Dan’s soul. 

“You sure?” Dan asked, wanting some extra reassurance. 

“Positive,” PJ said, Chris nodding in the background. 

“Okay,” Dan said, his tone hesitant, but he got off of the couch and went back to his room. He could do this, he thought encouragingly to himself as he picked up his phone. He went to Phil’s contact information and opened up a new message. He stared at it blankly for a moment, unsure of what to write.

_ hi phil-  _ No, too informal.

_ Phillip, I’m writing to ask- _ No Dan, way, way too formal. What was this, a Victorian novel?

_ hey Phil :)  _ Okay, good start, Dan thought as he continued typing. _ I was wondering if u would be able to give me some advice on how 2 talk 2 katie.  _

Dan read over the text three more times. Should he spell out his words? Would that be too formal? Sure, him and Phil got along, they were friendly, but could they be considered friends? At best they were like… coworkers. They went to the same place every day and talked a little, but they would hardly be considered  _ friends _ . 

But, his mind supplied, did coworkers send other coworkers songs? That’s a pretty friendly act, Daniel.

Dan shook his head and hit send on the text before he could overthink it. He set his phone down on the bed after turning the volume up high. He wasn’t expecting an answer soon, so he turned to leave for the bathroom.

_ Ding! _

Dan looked down at his phone before diving for it and picking it up, his eyes scanning across the screen greedily.

_ Hey :Dan _ , the message from Phil started off, _ I might b able to help. What did u need to talk to her about. _

Dan felt himself relax at Phil’s affirmative answer to helping him and it felt easier to text Phil having gotten a response. He sat down on the bed as he typed out a response.  _ i think i found a song i want to use for my program. i just don’t know how to tell her. _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ that’s great dan!!! what song is it? _

Dan laid back on his back as he sent the next message, his face feeling warm at the admission. _ it’s actually the one you sent me. from tokyo ghoul? _

A response didn’t come as quickly as the others. Dan shut his eyes, hoping he hadn’t messed up. Was it weird that he wanted to use the song that Phil had sent him? It was probably a little weird but it was the only one that Dan kept coming back to and-

_ Ding! _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ oh wow! :o that would be neat!! i’m kind of jealous. i should have thought of doing unravel 1st :p _

Dan barely finished reading the first one when Phil’ next text message came through.

**[Phil Lester]:** _ try being direct with her? _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ normally she tries to work with wat we want so ur chances of her saying yes r good _

Dan bit his lower lip again, this time harder, as he typed out his response. _ i bet she is. i’m just used to my old coach giving me more of a choice.  _

Dan paused for a minute, hoping it didn’t sound too critical of Katie. Sure, Katie was exacting, bordering on harsh, but he did like her as a coach so far. He sent the text anyway, unsure of a better way to phrase what he wanted. Phil’s next response seemed to pick up on Dan’s unspoken critique of katie.

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i know she seems harsh but she’s rlly good at picking songs _

_ i know,  _ Dan started to type, because Katie was good at picking songs, especially songs that would please judges all over. But Dan didn’t want to skate to the same songs from  _ Carmen _ that other skaters had done before (and probably better). Hell, he had done a routine to a song from  _ Carmen  _ when he was fourteen and now the musical gave him flashbacks to when he was young and still eager to please the judges. This season might be his last chance to skate and he wanted to make sure it was to a program he was happy with instead of just going along with what his coach had picked out for him, like he had done with Lena. 

He realized after a moment that he had spent too long thinking and had left Phil hanging for an answer. He deleted the ‘i know’ and retyped it, unsure of what to write. He repeated the motion two more times before sending off a text that said ‘ _ i know. i just don’t want to end up skating to carmen, lol _ ’

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i understand. definitely try tlking to her. she’ll like the initiative ^^ _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ what do you want to do for your other song? _

_ Idk & idc she can pick that if she wants, _ Dan typed.

**[Phil Lester]:** _ even if it’s carmen lol _

_ : o never mind, i’ll find something. nything but carmen,  _ Dan typed back, a smile on his face. Phil and him texted some song ideas back and forth, surprisingly a lot of Muse songs even though they weren’t orchestral, which delved into them talking about some of their favorite bands. Dan was surprised to learn that although Phil’s hair looked like a scene kid’s dream, he wasn’t as into emo as Dan thought he would have been.

**[Phil Lester]:** _ ur such an emo. mcr? Rly? _

**[Dan]:** _ have u scene lololololol ur hair. U r an emo 2 _

**[Dan]:** _ but mcr came at a time in my life when i needed thm ok _

**[Dan]:** _ gerard is king _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ no, thats matt bellamy :p _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i have to go to dinner : ( _

Dan realized with a start that it was already 6 pm and he still hadn’t eaten dinner either.  _ lol same,  _ Dan texted back, feeling a bit disappointed that he would have to stop talking to Phil now. It was Sunday, which meant that PJ and Chris would be ordering takeaway soon, or had maybe already done it. He had been having fun talking to Phil and was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to do it until the next time he ran into him at the gym. Instead of saying goodbye he sent Phil another question, figuring he could answer after he ate or something.

**[Dan]:** _ what are you having? _

He got a response back faster than he thought he would.

**[Phil Lester]:** _ sunday roast _

**[Dan]:** _ i would murder for a sunday roast : (  _

Phil didn’t reply for a few minutes so Dan walked out into the living room where PJ and Chris had moved on to another Wes Anderson movie. They started talking about what they wanted to do for supper tonight and Dan nearly jumped when he felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and squinted in confusion.

**[Phil Lester]: [** _ Photo Attachment _ **]**

**[Phil Lester]:** _ since u can’t compete if you go to jail for murder _

Dan felt his heart squeeze looking at the picture of the roast. It made him miss sitting down with his family when he was younger, when his parents were better at putting on a show of liking each other. Nan would make a roast every Sunday after church and while Dan grew out of church, he never grew out of those dinners until they… just stopped happening around when he was twelve. And whoever cooked the roast Phil was eating did a good job; it looked delicious with the meat, the potatoes… fuck, were those Yorkshire puddings? Everything was drenched in gravy and Dan wanted to drink it with a straw. 

**[Dan]:** _ go enjoy your roast _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i am _

**[Dan]:** _ don’t rub it in : ( _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ if u miss that much, maybe you can come over one sunday? _

_ maybe,  _ Dan messaged back after a second of just staring at the screen, his brain making error noises because how could he think after a casual invitation. He got up and grabbed the takeaway from the door since he lost at rock, paper, scissors against PJ and Chris. He didn’t get an answer until an hour later.

**[Phil Lester]:** _ well let me know ^^ _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ maybe u can skate to a song written about roast _

**[Dan]:** _ i’m not an ice dancer.  _

**[Dan]:** _ but imagine the judges faces if i walked out in a roast costume _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i’d pay to see that _

Dan texted Phil through dinner and took a break to play video games with PJ and Chris. By the time he checked his phone again, Phil had sent him a goodnight message.

**[Phil Lester]:** _ night dan ^^ see u tomorrow? _

**[Dan]:** _ definitely ^^ _

**[Dan]:** _ thanks 4 ur help tonight _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ np ^^ :)  _

Dan went to sleep that night listening to Unravel again.

-

Dan woke up the next morning and went through his usual routine. 

Wake up at 4:45am. Have breakfast, which was a strawberry protein shake. Leave for the rink at 5:15am with PJ and Chris, the three of them managing to snag a long seat that would fit the three of them. The only difference in his routine is that for the first time since his first day of training in Sheffield, he felt nervous and stiff, especially in his left shoulder. He was going to present something to Katie that she probably wouldn’t like and then he’d be stuck skating to something boring. He didn’t want to do boring this year; he wanted to do great and enjoy what he was skating to.

“You alright mate?” Chris asked as they rode the bus to the rink.

“Yeah. Why?” Dan asked, looking over at Chris, who just pointed down towards Dan’s legs. Dan’s leg was bouncing up and down at a rapid speed. 

“You’ve been making the seat vibrate for the whole ride,” Chris pointed out. Dan made his leg pause but not even a second later, it started bouncing again.

“Sorry,” Dan apologized before shrugging, his leg still bouncing. “I’m going to talk to Katie about music for my program today.”   
  
“Oh nice,” PJ said, sounding sleepy on the other side of Chris.”What did you decide on?”   


“It’s uh. A piano piece,” Dan said, looking down at his hands, his leg jiggling faster. “A cover of the Tokyo Ghoul opening song?”   
  
“Oh?” PJ says questioningly, like he knows something about the choice. “That sounds fun. What else you got?”

“That’s it. I figured Katie could choose my other piece for me? Kind of like a compromise,” Dan said, biting at one of his nails nervously. “We’ve been having a uh…”

“Difference of opinion?” Chris cut in as Dan struggled to find a polite way of saying they weren’t getting along in this one aspect. Or that he thought his training regime was a lot harder than his old one. Or that he didn’t like how she dismissed some of his ideas with a hand wave without hearing him out fully.

Dan just… wasn’t used to Katie the way he was with Lena. Lena had been there for him for years and he trusted her to do what was best for him. Lena and him shared a brainwave when they were choosing things for his programs that Dan and Katie just weren’t at yet (and Dan was scared they would never be at). She hadn’t complained about him yet, but he was scared that it was just a matter of time. Maybe he should just let her design his program, just to clear the air and give her a fair shot. But Phil said she liked working with skaters if they had something they wanted to do. Did she just not like Dan? Maybe Dan should message Lena later and ask for advice? Dan chewed at a piece of his nail as he thought for the last few minutes of the bus ride. PJ and Chris were talking quietly next to him and it was a bit soothing, but his thoughts wouldn’t stop going in circles. He didn’t realize that they had arrived for the stop near the rink until he was elbowed gently in the side by Chris.

“We’re here, Plato,” Chris said as he stood up. 

“What?” Dan said, legitimately confused by the nickname.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Chris said. “Just tell her you want to skate to your anime song and if she says no, find something else.”   
  
Dan didn’t know how to say he was scared he wouldn’t find something else, but he nodded along anyway. They trickled off the bus and into the locker room to change. Dan talked to Olly for a few minutes, confirming their meet up for Friday to go over some material for Psych. They stretched out together in the locker room, trying to see who could do a lower split (Olly could), as they talked and Dan felt some of his nerves start to melt away.

The nerves, however, didn’t stay calm for long as they approached the ice. Dan warmed up on ice, his heart pounding like he was running his best time on the treadmill. He kept looking around nervously for Katie to make an appearance, nearly jumping as she called him over to start his private hour with her. 

“Hello Daniel,” she said, a kind smile on her face. It made Dan reconsider his theory that she hated him. “How was your weekend?”

“It was good. How was yours?” Dan asked, standing stiff until Katie reached out and set her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to try and relax them so they were hunched up near his ears.

“It was good. My partner and I did a few errands, saw a few friends,” she said, giving him a critical eye. “Did you stretch out enough? You’re very stiff today.”   
  
“Yes,” Dan said, trying harder to relax, but he just couldn’t hold in his news any longer. It felt like it was eating him up inside and the sooner he said it, the faster he would have an answer, and the anticipation could go away. “I think I found a song I would like to skate to.”

Katie raised an eyebrow at Dan. “Really? It’s not the angry music with lyrics from last week?”

“No, it’s not System of a Down,” Dan said reassuringly. “I did that to be a twat, sorry about that. But this one is. It’s beautiful Katie. I keep listening to it over and over again and I feel inspired by it, unlike anything else we’ve listened to. Can you...can you listen to it? Please?”

Katie stood there for a moment before nodding, a half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’d love to hear what’s inspiring my student.”

Dan held up his finger and skated over to the opening of the rink and stumbled over to the bleachers where his skate guard, phone, and Phil were sitting.

“Hey Dan,” Phil said with a cheerful wave. 

“Hey Phil,” Dan said, picking up his phone and nearly dropping it from how excitedly his fingers were shaking. “Can’t talk; Katie wants to hear Unravel.”

Dan looked over at Phil and caught the other beaming at him. “She does? That’s great! Better hurry then! Good luck!”

Dan walked a fast as he could back to the rink, careful not to drop his phone as he skated back over to Katie. He took off one glove so he could control the touch screen and navigated to the Youtube video that he had been obsessively listening to all weekend and hit play. It took the video a while to buffer in the rink but once it loaded, Dan watched Katie’s face for a reaction as she listened to the song. She occasionally nodded along, looking like she was taking mental notes in her head, but her face didn’t really change too much. 

When the song was over, Dan shuffled nervously. “Well?”

“I think it’s a pretty piece that no one will recognize,” she said bluntly. “Judges like recognition.”

Dan felt himself start to droop. “Bu… I… I thought you could pick my other song maybe? That way I can do a song I want and then we can do something the judges will like.”

Katie stared at him a little longer before shaking her head, a smile on her face. “You really want to do this piece, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Dan said, not missing a beat. 

“What’s the theme then, Daniel? Just so I can start looking at some other music to go with this. Or in case this doesn’t work out, we can still look at other pieces.”

Dan didn’t know what the theme would be. He thought for a minute. To him the music sounded hopeful, something that related back to the anime’s themes on humanity, as dark as it was. He thought about Kaneki’s rebirth in a way into a half-ghoul, which got him thinking about how this was a sort of rebirth of his career and his whole life and wait…

“Rebirth,” Dan said, staring confidently into Katie’s brown eyes. “My theme is rebirth.”

“Rebirth… we can work with that. Oh, you got a text,” Katie said, handing the phone back to Dan. “Please go put up your phone; we have work to do.”

“Yes Katie,” Dan said, skating away with a smile on his face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, thank you so much for all the support recently! I hope everyone is doing well and is healthy and safe! : )


	12. chromatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chromatic: notes which do not belong to the diatonic scale

At the end of his private hour with Katie, Dan was told that he had to go visit the trainer before he could continue because Katie was concerned he might have strained a muscle. Dan tried to argue with her, saying he was fine but she threatened to make him skate to Carmen if he didn’t. He came off the ice mumbling about how he was an adult and totally not scared of Katie. 

“How’d it go?” Phil asked, making him jump.

“Good, I think,” Dan said before telling Phil what Katie had said on the ice in between sips of water. 

“But she’s going to let you do it?” Phil asked, his eyes on Dan, unblinking. Normally Dan would feel uncomfortable with the amount of scrutiny that Phil was giving him, but it felt more like Phil was trying to gauge if he was okay with everything happening, as opposed to judging him for how he phrased things. It was a nice change from the scrutiny that people had given him when he was younger.

“Yeah. We just need to find something for my long program and then we can talk to the choreographers,” Dan said, excitement oozing into his tone. “She’s hoping we’ll find something by next week now that I have a theme in mind.” 

“What’s your theme?” Phil asked.

“Uh… you’re going to laugh. But, um, but rebirth,” Dan said with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Damn, looks like I’ll need something different for next season then,” Phil said, dramatically snapping his fingers in faux (hopefully faux, Dan thought with a nervous tingle down his back) disappointment. 

“Oh, were you going to do that next season?” Dan asked, standing up to head to Louise. He waited for Phil to stand up next to him to see if he wanted to finish the conversation. Phil stood up slowly and Dan tried to hide his smile at the fact that Phil Lester wanted to talk to him.

“It was one of the ideas I was batting around. I don’t have much else to do but come up with ideas,” Phil said, gesturing down at his encase leg. Phil paused for a second, a contemplative look on his face. “Unless you count replaying Pokemon Emerald. Again.”

“Oh,” Dan said, making sure to walk slowly so Phil wouldn’t feel like he had to walk too fast to catch up. One time he had walked too fast in his first week and Phil had had to ask him to slow down with an embarrassed look on his face that made Dan feel horrible. They talked about the differences between Ruby and Emerald (since Dan had owned Ruby) as they walked to the trainer’s room. By the time they got to the trainer’s room, they were nitpicking at each others’ preferred teams.

Dan walked into the training room and waited for Phil to find a bench to sit on before plopping himself on the floor in front of him to start stretching.

“Look mate, I’m telling you,” Dan says with a grunt as he stretched forward, his fingers curling over his toes, left shoulder protesting slightly. He enjoyed the stretch all over all over his legs and let out a sigh. “Torchic is the best starter in Gen three.”

“You’re wrong,” Phil laughed, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. “It’s Mudkip.”

“How can it be Mudkip? Blaziken is the highest when it’s evolved and-,” Dan started in, looking up and over at Phil, who was shaking his head and laughing.

“It’s not about the strongest evolution, it’s about the one you love in your heart and I don’t see Torchic with an internet meme. Mudkip is the Pokemon of the people, for the people,” Phil said. “Besides, she’s the cutest.”

“Which is fine for the contest portion, but-,” Dan started in as Louise walked into the room.

“Dan, you’re talking too much for someone stretching,” she chided, setting down a clipboard on the bench next to Phil before turning to face Dan.

“Sorry, Louise, it was my fault,” Phil said with another laugh that made Dan’s insides warm up. Either that or it was his core being activated. 

“I alway knew you were a bad influence, Lester,” Louise said with a smile, the slight gap in her teeth showing from where Dan was sitting on the ground. “Now Dan, what are you here for?”

“Katie thinks I’m too stiff,” Dan said, releasing his toes and turning to stare more fully at Louise. 

“Stand up for me?” Louise asked him and Dan obeyed. He let Louise feel his arms and shoulder, listened to her hem and haw. He winced when she rotated his left shoulder. “Well Katie wasn’t wrong, you’re a little stiff, especially in your shoulder area. Have you been stretching out every practice?”

“Yes,” Dan said. “I stretched out this morning but I still feel a little tense. I didn’t sleep that good last night.”   
  
“I know it’s Monday, but why don’t we take it easy today? Maybe leave a little early and rest up then?” Louise said in a way that sounded like a question but was really a diagnosis.

“I still have five hours left to skate and I need to do my off-ice training too,” Dan said, his voice sounding a bit whiny to his own ears. 

“Well, if you’re stiff, you’re more prone to a sprain,” Louise explained patiently. “If you sprain something you won’t be able to skate for a longer period of time. It’s not going to end the world if you take one day off, I promise.”

Dan felt a bit humiliated having Phil there to witness Louise dressing him down like this, but he didn’t want to go home either. If he took a day off this early into his sponsorship, he was going to look like a twat. “Can I stay here and stretch before we decide? Maybe I just didn’t stretch enough this morning?”

Louise hesitated a moment, but sighed. “Sure, we can help you stretch out really well. It seems like a minor stiffness that we can hopefully work through. But if you’re still making that pained face at the end, I’m cutting you off, workaholic.”

Dan let out a huff but listened to the exercises Louise asked him to do to stretch out his arms and shoulders. By the end, his arm did feel a lot better and Dan decided he had just slept on it funny.

“Maybe we need to add in more arm exercises into your warmup routine,” Louise said as she poked and rotated his arm. “I’ll make some notes and we’ll see what we can do to get them stronger too. You’re a wee bit noodley.”

Dan tried not to groan. He hated arm days. He was a skater and understood that all of his body needed to be toned and capable, but he usually focused on his ankles and legs since those were the things he was using to propel himself around the ice and into the air. Dan looked over at Phil from the corner of his eye and saw the other was on his phone. He looked up, like he could tell he was being watched and mouthed the word “noodle” at him.

Prick, Dan thought as he stuck his tongue out at Phil.

“Children, behave,” Louise said with a fond sounding sigh and an eye roll. Louise was younger than the other trainers and sometimes, in moments like this, it showed. She took her job seriously but she also wasn’t afraid to sass Dan if the need arose. “Now Dan, you’re free to go skate. Phil, try not to be a distraction, dear.”   
  
“Yes, Louise,” Phil said, sounding contrite, but he had a shit eating grin on his face as he slowly stood up. He grabbed for his crutches and stood up before following Dan out the door, already chatting about how Mudkip was superior.

“You wouldn’t have a sore arm if you didn’t hate Mudkip,” Phil said sadly and Dan reached out to shove Phil gently. He didn’t push hard enough for Phil to lose his footing, but Dan used it as an excuse to let his hand linger on Phil’s shoulder. He was able to feel the warmth through the thin long sleeve shirt Phil was wearing.

“Twat,” Dan said as he finally pulled his hand away.

-

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i no somthing u dont no _

Dan wrinkled his brow in confusion. It was Wednesday afternoon and instead of being asleep on his couch, he was over at Olly’s house, studying for their Psych A levels. Dan’s resit was the month after Olly took his, but he was further behind on studying than he thought so he was enjoying these study sessions. Not to mention Olly was just cool to hang out with, even if he was a little bit of a Lad. But Dan had been taking a short break when the text from Phil came in.

He sent Phil back a question mark and flipped his phone face down on the carpet next to his textbook, which did nothing to stop it from vibrating a few seconds later. Dan let out a sigh and flipped his phone back over to see what Phil had said.

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i can’t tell u : )) _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ but you’ll be happy abt it i think _

**[Dan]:** _????? _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ : ))))) _

**[Dan]:** _ tell meeeeeee _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i was sworn to secrecy _

**[Dan]:** _ tease : ( _

“Who you texting, mate?” Olly asked from across the room where he was sitting at his desk. 

“Oh, just Phil,” Dan said, going for a casual approach, like he couldn’t feel his face heating up in excitement. He couldn’t help it. Phil had been texting him every night and not just about figure skating related subjects. He would talk about his life; the course work he was doing for long distance learning for York or how his brother was a DJ some nights or what his mom had made for dinner that night. Last night, Dan had mentioned he was a little homesick and Phil had stayed up with him until he fell asleep trying to make him feel better. 

“From the rink?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Lester or Pope?”   
  
“Lester,” Dan answered, sending Phil back a more intense frowny face when he didn’t respond quickly. How dare he dangle something in front of him like that and not answer? 

“Ah, the Lester hospitality train,” Olly said, turning back to his homework. “Phil’s always so nice to the newbies.”

Dan froze in place for a moment. Olly probably didn’t mean anything by that, right? Dan ignored the statement and went back to making flashcards for the parts of the brain. His phone buzzed again and Dan hesitated before answering it, Olly’s words echoing through his head. Dan didn’t think they were friend-friends yet, but was Phil just pretending to tolerate him because he was new? Was this all an act to make Dan like the rink? Would this easy back and forth go away the longer Dan was here? Dan felt numb and his fingers shook a little as they picked up the phone off the floor. 

**[Phil Lester]:** _ when are u coming back? _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ we want to play mk : D _

**[Dan]:** _ can’t. I’m studying : ( _

**[Dan]:** _ sorry _

\- 

Dan snuck into the flat around midnight, even though he was sure that Phil was probably gone by now and PJ and Chris would be asleep (or at least in their rooms). He went to his room and changed into a pair of baggy sweats that hung low on his hips but were the softest pair he owned. He didn’t bother putting on a shirt since the lounge was quiet. Normally, he was self conscious of the little bit of weight he carried in his stomach and would wear a shirt around any other human being, but if there was no one around, he preferred to sleep with as little on as possible. He walked back out into the main part of the flat, heading to the kitchen for a very late dinner, before getting stopped by a shout from the lounge. 

“Hey Peej,” the voice shouted. “Could you grab me some water?”   
  
“Errr,” Dan answered, finishing his walk into the kitchen and fixed up a glass of water. He walked into the lounge where Phil was laying on the couch, awkwardly cramped into the small space from what Dan could see of the moonlit room. Phil had his leg with the broken ankle extended out in front of him and his other leg hiked up while he leaned back against the arm of the couch.

“Oh, hey Dan,” Phil said, sounding surprised.

“Hey,” Dan said, approaching Phil as his heart raced. He needed to get out of here before Phil realized he was shirtless and gross and-

“How did studying go? Learn anything new?” Phil asked before taking a sip of water. Dan felt himself deflate; he couldn’t just leave without being rude now. His eyes flicked over to the chair and he climbed in it, pulling his legs up to hide his body. 

“It was okay,” Dan answered, rubbing his thumb up and down his leg. “Mostly just relearning a lot of stuff, you know?”   
  
“I feel that,” Phil said into the darkness. Dan couldn’t see his face. He couldn’t see if Phil looked bored of him or was wanting him to leave or was fine with him. There was a long silence. Dan squirmed uncomfortably on the chair and brought a hand up to bite at a nail. 

“How’d Mario Kart go?” Dan finally asked, breaking the silence. 

“It was fun,” Phil said, loud in his excitement. Dan could just make out Phil’s head turning side to side before he repeated himself, much quieter this time. “It was fun.”

“Who won?”   
  
“Chris did, the filthy cheater,” Phil said with such conviction that Dan couldn’t help but laugh. Phil launched into a story of one of the races and Dan took the opportunity to stand up slowly, hoping to conceal his stomach. 

“It sounds like it was fun,” Dan finally said when Phil was finished. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“We are too,” Phil said, his voice sounding a little softer, more fond in the dark. Or that was Dan’s imagination? He obviously needed to go to sleep. He sucked in his stomach and turned to face Phil.

“Do you need another glass of water?” Dan asked. “I’m about to head to bed and I don’t want you to dehydrate.”

“Oh,” Phil said, sounding surprised, his face momentarily lit up from a phone screen. “It’s already that late? I guess you would be tired, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dan said quietly, lying through his teeth. He wasn’t that tired, he just wanted to go bundle up under ten blankets so no one could ever see his body again. If he was lucky, he’d manage to fall asleep in the next hour. If not, he could text...someone. Or browse around on YouTube. ”Night. Phil.”

“Night, Dan,” Phil said back, quiet as Dan left the room. Dan felt better the second he left the lounge, letting his stomach rest normally. He wondered for a moment if Louise could recommend some core exercises for him so he could tighten up his stomach. He patted it softly in the darkness and went to his room, curling up around his pillow for a cuddle and passing out a lot sooner than he had thought.

The next morning came too quickly as his phone (which he had forgotten to put on his nightstand) vibrated near his head. He groaned and turned away from his phone, but it kept vibrating. He grumbled as he answered the phone, not checking who would be calling at fucking seven in the morning.

“Hullo,” Dan said, his throat feeling dry and his tongue lethargic as he spoke. 

“Morning,” a chipper Phil greeted him from the other line. 

Dan was tempted to hang up. “Morning. What’s up?” 

“Do you want breakfast? We were going to go out,” Phil said, his tone sounding unphased and still aggressively chipper. “Chris is craving waffles.”

Dan wanted to say yes. Dan wanted to go and hang out with Phil, Chris, and PJ, but there was a nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him of what Olly had said yesterday, about the “hospitality train”. Was this part of that? Was this just Phil continuing to be nice because he was new?

“You um….it’s alright,” Dan finally got out. “You lot go without me.”

_ It’d be more fun for them that way _ , a voice in the back of his head said.  _ Not having to deal with you _ .

“Are you sure?” Phil asked, PJ and Chris’ voices chatting loudly in the background, like they were hanging right off Phil’s shoulder. Like they all fit together and Dan was a misshapen puzzle piece that kept trying to fight his way into belonging.

“Yeah,” Dan said, his throat dry again. “I’m sure. Go have fun.”

“Want us to bring you back anything?” PJ asked into the phone, a little distant than Phil’s voice had sounded.

“No, thank you,” Dan said, his eyeballs feeling wet. 

“All right Phil, say bye to your-,” Chris started before the phone suddenly clicked off. 

That took no convincing for them to leave him behind, Dan thought as he stared at the phone in his hand before setting it down on the nightstand, rolling over, and clutching his pillow tight against his torso. Dan laid like that for hours, staring blankly at the wall to his side, clutching at his pillow until the tears beading up at the corner of his eyes subsided. 

He sat up when he was sure he was calm and went to Lena’s contact in his phone and hit the dial button. The phone rang for a bit and Dan was sure he was about to be sent to voicemail when Lena finally picked up.

“‘lo?” Lena’s muffled voice came across the phone. 

“Hey,” Dan said. “It’s uh, Dan.” 

“I figured,” Lena drawled, sounding a little more awake. “Caller ID.”

“Oh, right,” Dan said, running a hand up and down his thigh nervously. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” Lena said, sounding a little bored.

“Do you pretend to like me?”

“What do you mean?”   
  
“Am I a likeable person? Like if I joined your rink-”   


“You’re not quitting that rink,” Lena cut in. “I put too much time into getting you in there.”

“I’m not quitting Sheffield. I just… I think there’s someone here pretending to like me and I can’t tell.”

“... Dan, not everyone is like the people from your college,” Lena said, her voice gentle. “I’m sure they adore you up there.”

“I mean. I think my roommates like me. But there’s another guy and he just. He’s being so… so… so  _ nice _ ,” Dan said, sounding whiny to his own ears.Dan honestly didn’t know why he was spending so much time thinking about this. Maybe it’s because he told Phil about being homesick and Phil seemed to care. Maybe it’s because when Phil texted, he was excited to talk to him because they seemed to share a lot of the same interests. Maybe… maybe because for the first time since college, he might be making friends that weren’t complete assholes? “I don’t trust it.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Lena said with a laugh. “Oh no, call the police, someone is treating Daniel Howell how he deserves. They’re being nice to him.”

“It’s not funny Lena, I.. I think this is a cool person and I hope they aren’t pretending to be my friend,” Dan said, digging his nails into his thigh. His head hurt. “Sorry I’m whining. I’m at a good rink with a good coach and-”   
  
“Not better than me though, right?” Lena asked, her tone fake affronted.

“Of course not Lena, you’re the best,” Dan said, a small, fond smile forming. “But Lena I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“Be human,” Lena said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Already doing that, next step,” Dan said, feeling his brows furrow in confusion.

“No, that’s the step. Be human. Befriend the guy. Stop doubting or looking for the worst in people. Enjoy being friends with the guy and if he stops being your friend, fuck him,” Lena said.

Dan barked out a laugh. “Easy for you to say.”   
  
“I promise Dan, not everyone in the world is a complete twat,” Lena said reassuringly. “Now, tell me about your roommates. And more about the guy.”

Dan and Lena talked for another thirty minutes, just catching up on each other’s lives. Dan learned that Lena loved her new job, loved working with the tots instead of “moody teens who wore black and wanted to skate to Pierce the Veil”. Dan told her about PJ, Katie, Chris, and Phil (spending a little more time than he should have on the subject). When he hung up, he felt a little better about everything going on. But instead of joining them in the lounge (where he could hear shouting), Dan laid back down and stared at the walls of his bedroom, earphones in in an attempt to drown out the sounds from the lounge.

Trying to be human could wait until tomorrow, Dan thought as Unravel played softly in his ears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phil is right: mudkip is the superior Pokémon. Periodt.
> 
> I want to apologize to everyone for not answering their exceedingly kind comments! they are keeping me going and I swear I read them (usually at least once a day because I’m a sap). I have plans on answering everything over the next few days. : )


	13. dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dynamics: levels of sound in music. the spectrum of soft to loud.

Dan didn’t try to be human until Monday. He skipped out on grocery day on Sunday and laid in his room instead, going over all the possible results of being Phil’s friend. Most of them ended in disappointment, with Phil telling Dan he was too annoying, that he was a homo, in Phil beating Dan up (because even with a bad leg, Dan was pretty sure Phil could kick his ass). But Dan couldn’t help it; it was all Dan had known at school with the exception of like five guys and the people at the rink. Everytime he thought about what Phil could do, it made his stomach upset and he curled into a smaller ball. But then it was Monday and he had to get up.

Dan got ready to skate like he was in a fog. Every one of his limbs felt heavy, even when he was doing his morning stretches. He knew he answered Chris and PJ when they talked to him, but he couldn’t remember the conversation. He hated days like this; days where he grew foggy and unresponsive for no good reason. He tried to shake out of it before he got to the rink but, even when he was stretching out again with Olly, he was unable to stop feeling heavy. He went out onto the ice and did his best to warm up, hoping he could at least pull it together before Katie called him over. 

When Katie finally called him over, he skated up to her with a forced smile on his face. 

“Morning Katie,” he said, his voice sounding false to his own ears. He hoped it was enough to fool Katie. 

“Morning, Daniel!” Katie responded energetically. “I have great news for you; I think I found your other piece.”

Dan blinked. That wasn’t what he was expecting at all; it had only been a week since their conversation where Dan had presented his want to do the Tokyo Ghoul piece. 

“So, I was talking to Phil the other day, I hope you don’t mind, but he told me the name of your song was called Unravel. So I wanted to bring something with fire to the program and Phil brought up a program of his we scrapped a while ago,” Katie said, looking excited. 

Dan didn’t know what to say. 

“So, let me just pull it up here,” Katie said, scrolling through her phone until she let out an excited ‘aha’. She hit play on the phone and an orchestral piece started playing, zippy and fast as it jumped across the woodwind section. It was a very different piece than Unravel, but Dan listened with a furrowed brow until the tippani drums came in.

“The Firebird?” Dan asked, hesitant in his guess. The music sounded familiar. After a few seconds he vaguely remembered it from Disney’s Fantasia.

“Yes! Isn’t it perfect? You have recognition and the music flows between so many tempos that we would really be able to highlight a range of motions,” Katie said, her voice excited, her eyes tracking Dan’s face. “I know you like slower pieces, but I think this would be a good fit for you since the whole arrangement isn’t fast paced.”

Dan listened to the rest of the arrangement of the song, looking over at the stands. Phil wasn’t here today, Dan realized with a start as he looked along the bleachers. He didn’t know when he had gotten so used to Phil being there that his absence was this jarring. Dan searched the bleachers to see if maybe he was sitting somewhere else. However, he realized as the song started to fade out, Phil really wasn’t here.

“So?” Katie asked, trying to drag Dan’s attention back to her instead of the empty bleachers. “What do you think?”

“Hmm?” Dan questioned, distracted by the empty bleachers still. Was Phil okay? “I uh… I like it.”

Dan couldn’t tell anyone what the last half of the arrangement sounded like but he nodded. “Yeah, I think it will work.” Dan was rewarded with Katie smiling at him and giving his shoulder an excited squeeze. 

“I’m so glad to hear that Daniel! I didn’t even tell you the best part. It’s already choreographed out, so we would just need to choreograph out Unravel,” Katie said.

“Why would he drop it when it got that far?” Dan asked, looking confused. 

“Hmmm?” Katie said, tilting her head to the side.

“Why would he drop the program when it got that far? Choreographed and everything,” Dan asked again, mentally guessing how much it would cost to be choreographed. It could range anywhere from 1200 to 3900 pounds depending on the choreographer and Dan guessed the Lester’s had connections. Dan wasn’t going to scoff at the idea of getting a discounted routine though, figuring his mom and dad would be excited not to have to pay full price for another routine.

“Oh, he found the second half too challenging,” Katie said with a chuckle. “Too many jumps.”

Dan blinked. “I’m not a great jumper.”   
  
“But you could be,” Katie said confidently. 

“I don’t even know if I have the stamina,” Dan said.

“You have stamina, trust me. I watch you skate every day. You haven’t seen the program yet. The jumps aren’t that bad.”

“If Phil thought it was hard, why would it be easy for me,” Dan asked, feeling something inside his clutch at his throat and made it hard for him to breathe.

“Daniel,” Katie said, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder again. “I’ve been coaching for a long time. I would never put one of my students in a position where the piece they were performing would be too hard for them.”   
  
“But Phil,” Dan started to say but was gently cut off by Katie. 

“Phil had this choreographed as a potential juniors piece and realized quickly he had bitten off more than he could chew. Not by much,” Katie said, “but he realized it was going to be too much for him as a junior. But I think you’re capable of doing this. I just need you to trust me, okay?”   
  
Dan wavered for a moment. While he respected Katie, he wasn’t sure if he trusted her just yet.

“What if I can’t do it?” Dan asked. 

“Then we’ll try one of the older pieces you’ve done. Your old coach would know how to get a hold of your choreographer, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re… they’re not great,” Dan admitted. 

“We could have our choreographer work on it and tweak it a little if we needed to. But Dan,” Katie said, ”I really hope you consider the Firebird piece. Honestly, it’s beautiful. You don’t have to decide today.”

“Actually,” Katie said after a pause,”I’d prefer if you waited until I sent you something. I think I have a copy of Phil performing this on a laptop at home. It would be rough, but I think it would give you a good idea of the piece. Would you be willing to watch it before you decided on whether or not to do it?”   
  
“Yeah,” Dan said, feeling his shoulders relax at not having to make a decision right away. “I could wait.”

“Thank you,” Katie said, before the smile disappeared off her face and went into what Dan was starting to realize was ‘serious mode’. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

“Yes Katie,” Dan said, giving one last stare at the bleachers, disappointed when Phil still wasn’t there. 

When it was time for Dan to take a break, he went back to the locker room and retrieved his phone from his locker. No missed text messages. Not that Phil owed him that, Dan said to himself as his phone screen went black. They were acquaintances after all.

But, Dan’s head said as he sat down on the nearest bench, acquaintances don’t text you on Friday nights wondering where you are or wanting to tease you about your future program music. 

Dan caved after a minute of debate, his thumbs typing fast. 

**[Dan]:** _ hey, katie told me the good news ^^ _

**[Dan]:** _ thank u : D _

**[Dan]:** _ where r u? _

Dan’s leg bounced up and down as he waited for a response. It came faster than he was expecting and nearly dropped his phone in shock. 

**[Phil Lester]:** _ had a dr appt : ((((( _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ what do u think? _

**[Dan]:** _ i want to see the vids katie has first b4 i decide _

**[Dan]:** they Star you : ))))

**[Phil Lester]:** _ nooooooooooo _

**[Phil Lester]:** _ i was so baaaaaaad _

**[Dan]:** _ now i really wanna c them _

Dan felt himself relax as Phil kept texting him, begging him to not to watch the videos from Katie. He messaged Phil back for a few minutes, telling him how the conversation with Katie had gone. He finally put his phone away to go work on his off-ice training when a few other guys filtered into the locker room. He didn’t even realize how long they had been talking. Dan hurriedly took off his skates and changed into his workout shoes.

He realized about halfway through his workout that his mind was clearer than it had been that morning. Maybe because he wasn’t stressed about what the second half of his program was going to be? Or maybe because he had talked to Phil and it hadn’t gone bad? Probably closer to the latter, Dan reflected as he used weights as part of Louise’s new workout routine for him. It felt good knowing that he hadn’t fucked up their budding friendship by hiding away for a few days, even if Dan felt guilty about not answering any of the text messages Phil had sent over the weekend. 

He got home later than usual that night, having stayed late to join the last skate of the night since he had too much nervous energy built up inside of him. He went to his room after making himself a bland dinner of eggs and toast and booted up his laptop. It wasn’t anything fancy and was secondhand, since most of his money went towards skating, but it functioned and that was the important thing, Dan thought as it slowly loaded his home screen. He logged in and checked his email, excited to find Katie had sent him an email.

_ Dan _ , it read,  _ I found a few clips I had taken of Phil when he was skating the Firebird piece. I hope this will give you a good idea of what the program would look and sound like. Please watch these before tomorrow.  _

Even though it was past Dan’s usual bedtime, he clicked on the first attachment and hit play. The first clip started with a close up of Phil, waving at the camera. His hair had a slight ginger tint towards the roots and his eyebrows were lighter looking than he remembered them being in real life. Did Phil dye his eyebrows? But even though the Phil in the video looked different than the Phil Dan saw everyday, he still did the tongue sticking out laugh that Dan was used to when Katie told him to stop being a knob and to go skate. Phil skated away from Katie backwards towards the center of the rink and Dan watched as he spread his arms to the side and then behind him. As the music started, staticy due to either the camera or the PA system, Phil started to turn, his arms spread wide as though he was a bird. But instead of the loose, fluid movements Dan was used to seeing from Phil, Phil’s arms seemed jerky. Dan wondered how long Phil had been working on the program when Katie had recorded this. Was this one of his first run throughs or was this something he had still been struggling to accomplish? Dan watched as Phill looped around the ice, turning himself backwards in preparation for his first jump of the program, a triple toe loop. Phil landed it cleanly, but his body language seemed to scream discomfort. The clip ended after another jump, this time a jump combination of a triple and a double toe loop and Dan immediately pulled up another clip she had included on the email, his interest peaked.

He watched all six of the clips she had sent him, his interest piquing more and more with each one. He could see where improvements could be made, but mostly he saw what Katie was talking about. It could be a beautiful program, if the right person was skating it. But was Dan that person? Like if this was too challenging for Phil Lester, one of England’s top skaters, what made Katie and him think that  _ Dan  _ could do it any justice? Granted, he could see where the endurance was needed for this routine; a lot of jumps were saved for the second half and Dan was impressed that a younger Phil thought he had the endurance for this. Even in these clips, Dan could see Phil visibly flagging as the clips went on, looking shaky in some places even. Would Dan be able to do this routine? Did he even want to?

He still didn’t have an answer by the time he went to sleep that night. 

-

He woke up the next morning groggy. It was like he was going through the fog again, but this time he just had dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t end up falling asleep until four, getting a grand total of an hour sleep. He didn’t even get up to stretch like he normally would, instead he laid in bed dozing and hitting snooze on his alarm until he legitimately couldn’t anymore. 

He just needed some coffee. Maybe a coffee flavored protein drink? Or the bad vending machine coffee that they have in the rink (he doesn’t care how much better Sheffield is than Ice Palace, vending machine coffee was bad at every ice skating rink)? A combination of the two? He must have looked like hell walking out of his room because PJ let out a low whistle.

“Rough night? Fight with someone?”

“No,” Dan said after a moment of trying to process what PJ was saying. “Katie had some clips she wanted me to watch.”

“All night?” PJ asked, looking incredulous.

“Probably not but the clips were important so I tried watching them a few times each and it turned into a spiral,” Dan said with a laugh as he dug around in his cabinet for a protein drink. He hadn’t grabbed any that were coffee flavored from ASDA when he had gone two weeks ago, so he settled on the last one in the cupboard,vanilla flavored. He opened it and chugged it in one go.

“Impressive,” Chris commented as he walked into the kitchen.

“There’s a market for what you just did,” PJ said off-handedly, dodging as Dan through the empty can towards PJ. He missed by a wide shot, but Dan put that down as his being tired. 

“Fuck off,” Dan said, sounding whiny even to his own ears as Chris and PJ started laughing. Dan huffed but he brushed by Chris and PJ to finish getting ready to leave for the rink, aware that he was now running late. He changed in record time and grabbed his phone before running out the door with Chris and PJ. 

He dozed on the way to the rink and felt heavy as he started stretching with Olly. He stopped by the vending machine on his way to the ice and debated chugging the hot liquid in one go. Instead he set it on the bleachers next to his skate guards and his phone before going on the ice to warm up. He recalled some of the clips he had watched on repeat last night and wondered how he would look actually performing the routine. Could he look better than Phil Lester? He nearly crashed into another skater while he debated this in his head.

“Get your head out of your ass,” the skater said snidely, skating past Dan with an angry huff. 

Dan didn’t say anything in response. He concentrated harder on warming up, making sure not to bump into anyone else. When Katie beckoned him over, her face was stern, no hint of a smile on it.

“Daniel, what are you doing?”   
  
“I was warming up,” Dan said, blinking away the sleep he felt.

“Daniel, I watched you skate in a circle for nearly two minutes,” Katie said. “What’s wrong?”

“I uh. Couldn’t sleep last night, sorry,” Dan mumbled, not meeting Katie’s eyes. He didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed. Sometimes figure skaters just had late nights, this had to be normal. Surely Michelle Kwan had one wild night. 

“Were you up late drinking? Partying?”   
  
“No, no, I was watching the clips you sent me. I… I see what you mean about the program,” Dan said honestly. “Like there were moments that I think would have been very beautiful.”

Katie was staring at him still, but her shoulders had relaxed, not looking nearly as imposing. “So does that mean you’ll do it? You’ll do the program?”   
  
“I… I think I’ll give it a shot,” Dan said, the words tumbling out of his mouth with no thought behind them. Dan hadn’t even fully decided and here he was, agreeing with Katie. This was going to go so badly. 

But then Katie smiled and it was like Dan was seeing a completely different person. This wasn’t a bland, polite smile. This was something he had earned. It was a proud smile. Dan wanted to see that smile directed at him more. 

“I’m glad to hear that, Daniel,” Katie said, before clapping her hands together softly twice. “Now we can work on something, although I will say your form looks a lot better than when you first started. I brought the binder of choreography with me. I’ll go get it, wait right here.”

“Okay,” Dan said, leaning against the wall to wait for Katie to return, ignoring the slight against Lena for now. He zoned out while she was gone and saw Phil coming into the rink, going to sit near Dan’s stuff like he normally did. Dan smiled and waved at Phil, who either didn’t see him or was ignoring him. Dan didn’t take it personally.

When Katie reappeared a few minutes later, Dan stood himself up straight and did his best to pay attention to what she was saying. His head was fuzzy and the cold did nothing to help him pay attention, but he muscled through.

“Got it?” Katie finally asked him, staring him down.

“Yes,” Dan said, lying through his teeth before skating away from her to try what he remembered. 

What followed was a long hour of Dan trying and failing to get the opening step sequence down, but Katie wasn’t being discouraging. She was actually pretty encouraging, stopping him occasionally to position his hips and arms as she liked them, her voice soothing when he huffed in frustration when he had the wrong leg extended behind him. When his hour was up, it was almost in relief, as his muscles protested weakly at the stretching he did on the ice. 

“Well, it’s a start,” Katie said as she handed the binder of the choreography off to Dan. “We’ll work on pages 1-15 this week. For now, go take a break. I can’t force you to stay late today, but you should try working through some of this off ice.”

“Thank you,” Dan said gratefully as he thought about his (probably freezing cold) coffee waiting for him on the bleachers. 

“Of course Daniel,” Katie said before bellowing across the ice for her next student. Had she always been this loud? 

Dan skated off the ice, looking down at the binder which had “Firebird Program, 2009, Daniel Howell” written neatly on a piece of paper. Dan blinked. How was she so sure he was going to accept the program? He shook his head and skated off the ice, before walking to where Phil and his coffee were waiting. 

“Hey,” Dan said, setting down his binder and blinking madly. Where was his coffee? He had left his coffee right here, next to his skate guards. He looked up at Phil and noticed the other was sipping out of a white styrofoam cup. 

“Did you see a cup? It was sitting right here,” Dan said, pointing at the spot next to his skate guards.

“Yep,” Phil said, aggressively chipper, taking another long sip from the styrofoam cup. “I really appreciated it, even if it was black. Thank you!”

Dan blinked. “That was my coffee.”

Phil slowly lowered the cup he was sipping on, looking between Dan and the cup. “It wasn’t for me?”   
  
“No,” Dan said, hearing his voice raise in incredulity. 

“But you never have coffee,” Phil said back equally incredulously, slowly setting the cup of coffee down. “Why would I think it was for you- Hey!”

It was almost gone, Dan thought sadly before picking up the cup and drinking the rest of it. 

“Shut it, coffee thief,” Dan said, rubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I’m not a thief!” Phil said with a slight pout. “I thought you were just being nice because of the program.”

“Oh, the program from hell?” Dan asked before tilting the coffee cup nearly upside down to get the last few droplets. He was desperate for just a little bit of caffeine to feel alive before he went back on the ice to practice. 

“It’s not from hell, just hell adjacent,” Phil said, not seeming to take any offense at Dan’s comment. 

“Well, wherever it’s from,” Dan said, sitting down and staring forelonely into his empty cup, “it needs to go back.”

“It was your first practice with it, give it some time.”

Dan was silent for a moment before he deflated. “Sorry. I know it was your program, I’m just tired. Stayed up late watching the clips Katie sent me.”

“Oh no,” Phil said, suddenly sounding unamused. “Please tell me it was like, the dummy versions with the computer programs?”

“Nope,” Dan said, popping the p. “It was junior Phil in all his spiky haired glory.”

“Oh nooooo,” Phil whined. “I was all spotty.”

“You weren’t that spotty,” Dan said reassuringly, patting Phil on the shoulder.

“I hate you,” Phil moaned instead, causing Dan to throw his head back in laughter at Phil’s pouting face. 

“Sorry mate.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I hope when Katie has to record you for something you get a giant spot right here,” Phil said, reaching up and booping Dan directly on the nose. Dan couldn’t breath for a second, Phil’s finger a warm spot against his chilled face. Dan let out the breath he had been holding and met Phil’s eyes. 

Phil pulled his finger away and continued. “But I think it’s a fun program. Might need some adjusting though.”

“Easier than building it from scratch,” Dan said with a shrug, his face feeling warm. 

“Yeah,” Phil agreed, his leg not in a cast bouncing up and down. “Did you need uh, more coffee?”   
  
“Yeah, I was going to grab some more. Did you want me to grab you a cup?” Dan asked, looking down into his own, empty cup. He looked up and noticed Phil biting his lip aggressively. Dan looked back down before he could be caught staring.

“I could come with you,” Phil offered, going to stand up as Dan flapped his hand at him, gesturing at the other to keep seated. 

“It’s fine, I only got lost my first day,” Dan said with an eye roll. “What flavor do you want?”   
  
“French Vanilla, if they fixed it,” Phil said, sounding a little defeated. Dan hadn’t realized how much Phil liked the French Vanilla flavor.

“Gotcha,” Dan said, giving Phil a small smile, before turning to go grab the both of them some coffee, wondering why Phil had been biting his lips the whole time he had been asking Dan to grab coffee. Maybe they were chapped or something, Dan thought with a shrug. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit y'all. we've passed over a THOUSAND hits. i am astounded and humbled by all the readers who have taken an interest in this fic whether for the first time or the thirteenth time. thank you so much for your continued support and encouragement. i hope all you cool cats and kittens are staying safe and healthy. see you next week!


	14. atonal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> atonal: music in which no key can be established

A few weeks later and Dan felt like he had barely made progress on his program. Katie said he was progressing nicely, but Dan just felt like she was saying that to get him to stick to the program. Every turn, every jump, every angle of his hands just felt wrong. Maybe it’s because he didn’t feel enough like a mythical firebird? Katie kept telling him to watch a bootleg copy of the original ballet so he could get a better feel for the “energy” he was supposed to exhibit, but he kept putting it off because why would he watch ballet when he could play video games, or talk to Phil, who was rapidly becoming his favorite person up here?

He looked out the plexi of the rink and saw Phil sitting on the bleachers. Phil must have seen him because he started waving madly at Dan, who let out a much more subdued wave back. 

Ever since he had decided to take Lena’s advice and “be human”, Phil had started to message Dan more and more frequently outside the rink. While a good portion of their conversations still revolved around figure skating, mostly advice Phil would try to give Dan about the Firebird routine, they also talked about music and television shows. Dan loved reading Phil’s rants about Buffy and Lost or debating with him about what Muse album was the best. They got along better than anyone Dan had known back home and sometimes it still scared him that they could talk for hours without Dan feeling bored (or noticing how much time had passed). If Dan hadn’t known better, he would say he had a crush.

“Daniel, are you paying attention?” Katie asked, her hands on her hips, staring him down.

“Yes,” Dan said, immediately regretting it as Katie raised an eyebrow. 

“Really? What did I say?”

“Errr,” Dan said, frantically going through his head to see if anything Katie had just said had stuck. ”My angles are sloppy?”

“I actually hadn’t, but thank you for reminding me,” Katie drawled, before sighing. “Have you watched the ballet yet?”

“No,” Dan said honestly. He wiggled his fingers by his side, waiting for Katie to speak. He had forgotten to put on his gloves before coming on to the rink today so they felt colder than usual. 

“Okay, don’t come back until you’ve watched it,” Katie said, cutting off Dan before he could protest. “I need you committed to this, Daniel. You don’t have a direction for this. You’re just… there.”

Dan felt himself deflate at Katie’s words. He had disappointed her. Again. He bit his lower lip hard and nodded. “I’ll go home and watch it. I- I want to do this right.”

“Thank you,” Katie said, sounding relieved. “Off with you then. I’ll see you tomorrow. Please watch it.”

“Yes Katie,” Dan said, despondent, before taking off, listening to Katie shout for the next student to come over and join her. Dan muttered as he skated over to the door, resisting the urge to slam it closed as he exited the rink. He wasn’t mad at Katie; he was more frustrated at himself for slacking. Slamming the door wouldn’t solve anything, he told himself as he paused by the door for a moment. After inhaling a big breath of air, looking out onto the ice, he turned and made his way over to Phil and his small pile of possessions.

“Well, that ended early,” Phil said, stating the obvious.

Dan didn’t say anything as he picked up his stuff. He dropped his phone and let out a sharp “fuck” as he bent down to retrieve it, everything else he had already picked up tumbling out of his arms to join his phone on the ground. Luckily no one had been walking around the area in skates so the floor was still dry. Small miracles, Dan thought bitterly. 

“Dan,” Phil said, his voice gentle as he reached out and laid a hand on Dan’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“She told me not to come back until I watched the ballet,” Dan said, shaking Phil hand off his shoulder as he started scooping everything back up. “That I was aimless.”

“Well,” Phil started, cutting himself off when he saw Dan’s face. 

“I know, I know,” Dan said with a long sigh after a beat too long of silence. “I know I’m aimless. It doesn’t mean I like hearing it.”

“That’s fair?” Phil said hesitantly. 

“Sorry I’m being a grouch,” Dan apologizes, disliking how uncertain Phil sounds. Phil should sound confident and sure of himself, like his skating always is. Was. Will be again.

“It’s fine. We all have off days,” Phil said, still sounding a bit off from his normally chipper self. Phil’s phone went off and he pulled it out of his pocket to check it. Dan watched as Phil’s face went from concerned to… nothing; it went blank. It was odd to see, considering Phil was usually a very expressive person. 

“Everything okay?” Dan asked, wondering who or what was on the screen to make Phil’s face look like that. 

It took Phil a moment to answer, which was accompanied by a forced sounding laugh. “Yeah, yeah, everything is fine.” 

Dan wanted to push but he didn’t think they were at that point in their friendship yet. Sure they got along great, but did Dan have the right to demand (because that’s what it felt like) answers out of Phil when Dan could see he was lying? Probably not. So Dan said, “Okay. Well, I’m going to go do some off ice training. I’ll see you later?” 

Sometimes (okay, a decent portion of the time) Phil would come with him for off ice training. Other times he would sit and watch the other skaters for hours. Dan had never asked what Phil was thinking when he watched them skate. 

“Yeah,” Phil said, looking out at the rink as PJ zoomed by the glass giving them the two finger salute. “I’ll message you later.” 

When Dan turned back by the door, Phil had his phone pressed to his ear. 

-

Dan was exhausted when he got home. He had pushed himself harder than normal during his off-ice training and he felt it all over. He nearly went to bed without looking up the play if it wasn’t for that fact that when he said that out loud, PJ reminded him about what Katie said. He let out a groan and went to his room to go boot up his ancient, but mostly reliable, laptop to see if YouTube had a bootleg copy of The Firebird ballet. 

When the laptop booted up what felt like hours but what was only a few minutes later, he ignored the recommended Shane Dawson and Smosh videos on the front page. He searched through videos for a while until he found one that was close to an hour long. Even if this one didn’t have the entirety of the ballet, it would have enough of it to give Dan a good idea of what it was about. He settled in to watch it and he tried to follow the storyline, but he ended up needing to use Wikipedia to get a better grasp on the story. After reading the Wikipedia article, he rewatched the ballet and found himself looking closer at the Firebird’s role for hand movements and little ticks he might be able to translate onto the ice. He took out a notebook and scribbled down ideas as he watched them appear on screen along with any adjectives that seemed to pop out at him. 

He frowned as he started his fifth rewatch as he realized he didn’t really feel connected to this story. Sure, there was a hint of rebirth after the Firebird helped Prince Ivan defeat Koschei, but Dan didn’t identify with the story of the princesses awakening or this Firebird. Was he supposed to identify with Prince Ivan then? Dan wrinkled his nose at the idea and went back to the first page of searches. He hovered over a upload of Disney’s Fantasia before clicking it, feeling himself relax back into the pillows on his bed as the video loaded. 

As he watched the video, watched the literal birth-death-rebirth cycle shown, he felt more inspired than he had with the ballet. Maybe he was taking his theme a little too literally, he thought as he hit replay. He rewatched it a few more times, wondering if he could get his arms to move as fluidly as the cartoon and figured the worst he could do was try tomorrow (or later today, he amended as he checked his phone with a wince). 

He had a missed call from his mom and a few sporadic texts. Nothing from Phil though, Dan noticed with some disappointment. He put his laptop gently on his nightstand and set his alarm to go off in a few hours, determined to show Katie what he had learned from watching. 

When his alarm blared hours later, Dan popped up like a slenderman jack in the box. He scrambled to shut off his alarm and he felt. Awake. It was an odd feeling seeing as he had only had five hours of sleep and no nap. He got up and did his pre-stretching stretches before walking out to the kitchen, whistling the main synth line from Muse’s Uprising. He looked at the clock on the microwave and decided he had just enough time to eat a thing of yoghurt along with his protein shake. He leaned against the counter and started to whistle again, this time the main Firebird theme. He didn’t realize how loud he was being until PJ walked out, rubbing his eyes. 

“You’re cheerful this morning,” PJ grumbled as he maneuvered around Dan to reach into his cabinet. He pressed close again Dan’s side and Dan felt himself nearly melt at the sleepy warmth emanating from PJ’s body. God, maybe he needed to listen to Chris’s teasing and get laid if he was feeling this touch starved. Not by PJ, but a nice girl with blue eyes that looked like kaleidoscopes. 

“I feel cheerful,” Dan replied before taking a bite of his strawberry yoghurt. “Slept great.”

“Lucky you,” PJ grumbled as he poured his cereal. “Go be cheerful somewhere else.”

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Dan asked, genuinely a bit concerned. PJ was a generally happy person, so seeing him agitated felt like seeing the Loch Ness monster. Unbelievable. 

“Didn’t sleep great because SOMEONE kept sending me text messages at 2 am about some bird he was talking to on a dating site,” PJ said, shouting back into the hallway of the apartment. 

“Ah,” Dan nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.” 

“We’re leaving him behind today,” PJ grumbled, into his bowl of cereal. “And you know what? You know why you’re the BEST ROOMMATE Dan? You don’t steal my cereal.”

“Er… was that a problem?” Dan asked, watching PJ eat his cereal at the table, hunched over it like a dog over his food. 

“Oh yeah,” PJ said after a slurp of milk, “Phil used to steal my cereal all the time.”

“Well, I promise not to do that as long as if I buy Crunchy Nut, you leave it alone,” Dan said solemnly as Chris stumbled out into the kitchen, looking a fright. Dark circles were under his eyes and half his hair was sticking up in the air. 

Straight hair privilege, Dan thought as he scrapped at the bottom of the yoghurt container. 

“Oh GOOD MORNING Chris,” PJ said, a bit on the obnoxious side. Dan tried to hide his grin behind his empty yoghurt container, but figured he was unsuccessful given the glare that Chris sent his way.

“Yes, yes, I can tell you’re annoyed,” Chris snipped back as he slouched in his chair, resting his head on the table. 

“Oh good,” PJ said, slurping on his cereal. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris mumbled into the table. “No need to sound joyful about it.”

“How was that joyful?”

“That was a joyful slurp,” Chris accused, turning and resting his head to the side to stare at PJ. “Admit it.”

“I will admit no such thing,” PJ said, taking another slurp that sounded no different to Dan than any other slurp.

“Fucking nutters,” Dan said with a laugh, stepping over the foot Chris placed in his way to go to his room and gather up the few things he needed for today. He checked his phone and sent his mom a quick text message saying he would call her later and a string of incomprehensible emojis to Lena just to make her question her life choices. He glanced around his room and frowned at the pile of laundry piling up in the corner. He needed to do that soon, but the last time he had used the washing machine in the building, someone had left his stuff on the floor and had stolen three socks. 

Ugh.

He heard PJ call for him at the door and he grabbed his knapsack with his notebook in it before chucking in his phone and water bottle (making sure the lid was on tight). When he met PJ in the hallway, there was a noticeable absence. 

“Where’s Chris?” Dan asked.

“I was serious earlier. We’re leaving him today,” PJ said, his tone aggressively cheerful. “He’s called in sick.”

Dan raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Must have been some bird to call in sick for her. 

The ride to the rink was nice, spent in a companionable silence. It allowed Dan some time to focus and go over his notes again. He had separate pages for the ballet versus the Disney short and he kept flipping back and forth between them. By the time they got to the rink, Dan felt confident that he could emulate some of the hand gestures and movements he saw, maybe finally make this piece his own.

He stretched in the locker room, chatting to Olly about when their next study session would be before he got onto the ice and warmed up. He was feeling so good that he even tried doing a simple jump, a double toe loop. He landed it and felt good. No, he felt great about it. 

He looked up and saw Katie arriving and his eye immediately jumped to the bleachers where Phil usually sat. He felt his eyebrows furrow for a second as he noticed the empty space there. Phil probably had a doctor’s appointment, Dan thought before turning his attention back to Katie. 

-

Practice that day was great. He was hitting positions from the first fifteen pages in time with the music, he was adding in hand gestures that made it his own AND Katie approved of. 

“Whatever you did last night, do it again,” Katie said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. 

“You want me to sleep for four hours?” Dan asked, looking out the corner of his eye at the bleachers where PJ was standing, talking to someone Dan couldn’t see and Phil. 

“Every night if it means you do what you did today,” Katie said, her tone sounding closer to fond or teasing than Dan had heard before. Dan felt himself blink in shock. “But I’ll take notes on what you did today and we’ll work on it tomorrow. Especially that opening hand number. I like it more than the original.”

“Thank you Katie,” Dan said, tilting his face down to try and hide his burning cheeks. He skated off the ice and walked over to where PJ was talking to Phil and another guy. He didn’t look familiar to the rink but Dan recognized him from somewhere; brown hair swept to the left side of his face and brown eyes. 

“Hey,” Dan said, raising his hand in greetings. 

“Dan,” Phil said, looking at Dan and giving him a timid smile. Phil was wearing a scarf today and Dan was a bit suspicious since Phil usually seemed impervious to the cold. “This is Charlie.”

“Oh, he should know who I am,” the other bloke, Charlie, said with a cheeky grin. “We’ve skated together down south.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dan lied, not remembering Charlie too much from any skating competition. If they had skated together, it would have been during regionals.It wouldn’t hurt to be polite though. “You’re good, mate.” 

“Thanks,” Charlie said, as he leaned over and undid Phils scarf. 

“Hey, stop it,” Phil said, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth. Dan noticed a prominent bruise on Phil’s neck, outlined by Charlie’s fingers brushing over it. Oh.

Oh.

Dan felt his face heat up as he looked away from Phil’s neck (with a hickey on it, how had Phil gotten the hickey?). He looked over at PJ, who was staring at Phil. Phil was silently letting Charlie retie his scarf.

“So uh, how’d you guys meet?” Dan asked, feeling stupid as the other three people turned and stared at him. 

“We uh, met at a skating competition two? Three years ago,” Charlie said, looking at Phil for confirmation. 

“Three,” Phil said as a hand came up and played with the end of his scarf. 

“Three years ago. We’ve been friends ever since,” Charlie said, resting a hand on Phil’s knee. Dan resisted the urge to look around, feeling like what they were doing was wrong. 

Dan felt like he couldn’t breath. 

“I don’t get to see him often since I live in Kent though,” Charlie said, giving Phil’s knee a squeeze. Phil looked vaguely uncomfortable but he didn’t remove Charlie’s hand either. PJ muttered something but Dan couldn’t hear it because his head was going to explode from all the blood rushing in his ears.

“I uh. I should go?” Dan said weakly. “Let you guys catch up then. It was nice seeing you, Charlie.” 

“Nice to see you too,” Charlie said with a sly grin that Dan did not like the look of.

“Bye Dan,” Phil said quietly as he removed Charlie’s hand from his body, letting Dan breath again. 

“Bye Phil,” Dan said, feeling his airways become less constricted. “See you at home PJ.”

Dan strode away from the group as quick as he could, unable to get the image of Charlie’s hand on Phil’s knee out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! every week i get more and more blown away by the kind comments and kudos you guys are leaving on this fic. I really appreciate it. you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> Thank you again and see you next week!! : )


	15. flat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flat: lower in pitch
> 
> tw: panic attacks and past homophobia/ptsd

Dan couldn’t get the image of Charlie’s hand on Phil’s knee out of his mind as he worked on his off ice training. As he fast walked before throwing himself in the air, making sure to hop on the landing to save his joints from the repeated harsh motions, all he could see was Charlie’s tan hand resting on Phil’s black joggers. As he was supposed to be working on his posture in the air, he saw the way Charlie’s hand gave Phil’s knee a squeeze and he seized up at the wrong moments. As he stretched out at the end of two hours, he remembered the way Charlie’s face had looked meeting Dan’s: proud and unafraid.

Dan felt silly for it, but he kept looking around like someone was going to come up behind him and shake him down for merely being near Phil and Charlie. He knew on a level that being affectionate with a friend wasn’t the same as being _gay_ but there was something in that knee squeeze that went beyond friendly affection. Dan didn’t even know that if Phil was _gay_. Should he ask him? 

And then do what with the information, Dan asked himself as he shut his locker door. Just… carry it around? No, surely it was better not asking or knowing, right? Dan bit his lower lip in thought (oddly wishing for a pen cap to chew on like in school) and turned to leave. He managed to get out of the locker room without being stopped by PJ or Olly or (god forbid) Charlie and Phil. 

Not that he disliked Charlie; he didn’t know enough about him to have an opinion, Dan hurriedly reminded himself as his fist curled up at the thought of him. He stopped for a moment in the hallway by the back door and let his fist relax, checking the time on his phone. Still before noon; it was barely even eleven. He ignored the two texts on his phone and pocketed it, making the executive decision to go home. It’s not like he was focusing to the best of his ability. 

The bus ride home was quiet, but unlike earlier with PJ, where they talked low and quiet, Dan couldn’t stop thinking. His brain kept whirring and stopping on parts of the conversation with Charlie. His leg was bouncing up and down at warp speed. His fingers were drumming on the thigh of the leg that wasn’t bouncing. He just couldn’t relax. By the time he made it back to the stop by his flat, he was sure everyone (all three old ladies and a tired looking man) on the bus wanted to strangle him. He thanked the bus driver as he got off before nearly running home. 

He just wanted to be in the safety of his bedroom, where he knew no one’s eyes would be on him anyway. His skin crawled the whole way home, feeling like they all _knew_. Not that Dan was the one who had done anything wrong. Not that Phil and Charlie has done anything wrong, but they had just been so open about it and anyone could have seen and-

Dan shut the front door and stood in the hallway, making sure that Chris wasn’t awake. He didn’t hear anything from the lounge so he hurriedly kicked off his shoes and went to his bedroom. When he was inside, he dropped his bag by the foot of the bed and immediately crawled under the covers.

No one could touch him here, he reminded himself. No one could grab him at any point and just hurt him. This wasn’t Wokingham. He felt himself choke on air beneath the covers and he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, someone was choking him, Adam was choking him and calling him a filthy faggot-

It took Dan a few minutes (close to an hour, really) to calm down and sit up, wiping the oh so attractive combination of tears and snot off his face. He checked the time on his phone again and froze when he saw he had a message from Phil. He flipped his phone over, not wanting to read it and feel obligated to respond. Curiosity won out moments later as he flipped the phone over to read the message.

**[Phil : ) ]** : _hey! we’re all planning to go out later if u want 2 come!? c is leaving tomorrow_

Dan stared at his phone for a moment. He could tell his hands were shaking a little bit as he typed back a reply. 

And deleted it. 

And another reply, that was also deleted. 

It took Dan about three more times to type out a reply that he wanted. 

**[:Dan]** : _sounds fun. wat time_

This was going to be a disaster, Dan thought as he let himself flop backwards on his bed. He let his phone hang above his body before letting it drop down on his chest, feeling like a literal brick when he didn’t get an answer. He huffed and picked up his phone again and decided to see if Lena was available to talk. 

**[Dan]** : _hey r u in class_

 **[Lena]** : _I’m on my lunch actually._

 **[Lena]:** _also what did the emojis mean?_

Dan let out a weak chuckle before hitting the phone button on Lena’s contact, who picked up immediately. 

“I’m serious, Howell,” Lena said, her tone mock threatening, “Explain what the fish emoji has to do with the stop sign and the baby.”

Dan chuckled. “Nothing, I just wanted to drive you crazy.”

Dan listened to Lena huff on the phone. “It didn’t drive me crazy.” 

“Suuuuuure it didn’t,” Dan drawled sarcastically before pitching his voice up. “I’m serious, Howell-“

“Oi,” Lena cut in, laughing. Dan felt relaxed as she laughed, reminding him of the one (consistent) bright spot of Wokingham, even if she now resided in Reading. “Should have gone into acting with that vocal range.”

“Hey, I was a good Santa,” Dan argued back, rolling on to his side to stare out at his room instead of up at the ceiling. “I could have made it.”

“Sure you could, Howell,” Lena said flippantly. “So not that it isn’t nice to talk to you, but what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up,” Dan said, too quickly. He cursed himself internally as Lena let out a hum.

“Dan, it's before two on a Friday. Unless you’ve gone soft up there, you’re normally practicing right now,” Lena said, a crunch sound going off in Dan’s ear. She had mentioned she was on lunch, Dan reminded himself. “So spill, Howell.”

“I just. I had a rough day at the rink,” Dan said instead of spilling. “And people invited me out later.”

“Oh?” Lena asked. “Including Phil?”

“And his boyfriend, yeah,” Dan said, his tone coming out more bitter than he wanted to. There was silence on the line for such a long moment that he pulled the phone away from his face to make sure Lena was still on the line. “Sorry.”

“I. Didn’t know Phil was queer,” Lena said, slowly. Haltingly like she was afraid Dan would break from each word. 

“Neither did I,” Dan said. And that’s when it hit him. Sure, he and Phil were friends, but there was still so much about Phil that Dan didn’t know.

“When, uh, did you find out?” Lena asked. 

“Today when he turned up to the rink with Charlie.”

“The boyfriend?”

“I think so?”

“Dan, you said he had a boyfriend,” Lena said.

“He didn’t introduce him as his boyfriend but they were touching,” Dan explained. “Like, Charlie had his hand on his knee.”

“Ah,” Lena exhaled. “Now it makes sense.”

“What?”

“You’re jealous,” Lena said factually. 

“No, I’m not,” Dan snapped back. “What would I have to be jealous about?”

“Well you and Phil have been getting closer lately, yeah?”

“Not like that!” Dan exclaimed and felt guilty when he remembered that Chris was probably still asleep. He repeated himself in a quieter voice. “Not like that.”

“Maybe not,” Lena said, “But it blindsided you, yeah? Not knowing something about him that someone else knew?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, significantly quieter. “I… I don’t know why he wouldn’t tell me though.”

“Would you have stopped being his friend?” 

“No, of course not,” Dan said quickly. 

“Well, he probably just wanted to keep being ‘normal’ then,” Lena said. Dan hated how he could hear the finger quotes in her voice. “It’s not like you go around telling everyone you’re bi-”

“Shush,” Dan said, looking around the room, like his (old) bully Adam was going to jump out and mock him. “Not so loud.”

Lena was quiet for a moment. “So you don’t see why he didn’t tell you?”

“I… I see your point,” Dan said quietly. 

“So maybe,” Lena continued on,” You’re not jealous of Charlie dating Phil necessarily. But about how open they were allowing themselves to be.”

Dan felt his face wrinkle. No, that didn’t sound quite right, but instead of saying that, he agreed with her. It seemed a bit easier. 

They talked for the rest of Lena’s lunch about what Dan should wear going out and how fit Lena found one of the other coaches (which Dan teased her about). When they hung up at the end of Lena’s lunch hour, Dan felt better. He gave his nan a call since he hadn’t done so this week yet. They talked for a shorter amount of time since she was on her way to set up the church’s bingo hall. He finally checked his text messages and saw he had received one back from Phil about what time. 

**[Phil : ) ]** : were probly heading out at 10? PJ mentioned drinks at urs b4 we go out

 **[:Dan]:** sounds gud

Dan figured that meant he had enough time for a nap. He rolled back on to his back and stared up at the ceiling before letting himself get lulled to sleep, dreaming of firebirds (which unlike Disney’s lava bird, were actual birds on fire). When he awoke later that night, he was disoriented to find the sun starting to set. He scrambled for his phone and checked the time. 7:59 pm. 

“Shit,” he muttered to himself as he rolled out of bed and staggered over to the wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of broken in black skinnies and dug around for his favorite Muse shirt. He huffed when he finally found it on the floor, buried under a few other dirty clothes. He grabbed a can of Lynx body spray off his desk and liberally sprayed down the shirt so it wouldn’t smell like dirty clothes. He laid the clothes out on his bed before he grabbed his caddy of bathing supplies and hoped no one was in the bathroom. 

Luck, for once, was on his side. Normally whenever he went to take a shower, someone else was in the bathroom doing something and he’d have to wait. Tonight, however, he was able to walk into the bathroom. He flipped on the switch to the light and proceeded to take the shortest shower he could. His hair needed time to dry so he would be able to straighten it before anyone got here. He banged his shin on the toilet as he got out of the shower and let out a curse. Looks like his luck was rapidly running out. He toweled off his hair to the best of his ability and towelled down before pulling on some new briefs and walked out of the bathroom and straight into someone’s body. 

“Oof,” the other person let out, reaching out and putting his hands on Dan’s hips. Dan felt his breath catch. “Sorry.”

Phil. It was Phil with his hands on Dan’s hips. And Phil looked good. Not in a gay way. Just a normal good looking way. He was wearing a flannel with the sleeves rolled up, layered over a black shirt. He was wearing joggers again, but Dan figured it would be hard to wear jeans with the cast. 

“No, that was me,” Dan said and fuck, his voice sounded weird. Phil’s hands felt cool against his skin.“Uh, are you okay? I didn’t get your foot?” 

“No, no,” Phil said, finally removing his hands from Dan’s hips. “I’m fine. Just needed to wee.”

Dan tried not to giggle at Phil’s childish word, but ultimately failed. “Well, let me get by. Wouldn’t want you to wee on me.”

“I don’t want to wee on you,” Phil agreed, stepping to the side. “You just showered.”

“So if I hadn’t, it would be fine,” Dan asked, raising an eyebrow. He felt his face try it’s hardest not to smile, but gave out eventually. 

“Absolutely,” Phil said before his face dropped in horror. “Not. Absolutely not. I don’t want to wee on you, showered or not.” 

“Okay, Wee-Er,” Dan said as he walked past Phil to go back to his room. “The Weeianst.” 

“Don’t call me that,” Phil called from the other side of the closed door. Dan laughed instead of answering before walking across the hall to his room.

When he closed the door to his bedroom, he leaned back against the door and pressed his hands against his hips, imagining for a moment he could still feel the coolness of Phil’s hands on him instead of his own warmth.

-

When Dan emerged from his room about thirty minutes later, dressed and hair straightened with threats of not becoming curly whispered into it, the lounge was full of people. There were PJ, Chris, Phil, Charlie, and a few other guys from the rink there too. Looked like a real lads night. 

“Dan,” PJ cheered from across the room. “You’ve arrived!”

“Er,” Dan said, feeling everyone turn to look at him. Phil gave a wave from the couch before turning his attention back to Charlie. Dan felt his hand clench into a fist momentarily before he forced it to relax. So what if Phil was spending time with his boyfriend? That wasn’t a bad thing. He looked back at PJ and shrugged. “I arrived.”

“Want a drink?” Chris asked from behind PJ, holding out a beer to Dan. Dan wrinkled his nose but accepted the beer anyway as PJ cheered. 

God, how did their neighbors not hate them, Dan asked himself as he began to drink. 

By his second beer, Dan had watched Charlie try and place the hand not holding a beer on Phil’s knee again only for Phil to turn and whisper something into Charlie’s ear; he stopped trying after that. It made Dan grab a third beer. 

So Dan was pleasantly loose, talking to the guys from the rink that Dan didn’t see as often because they weren’t under the same trainer, before PJ decided it was time to leave.

“Okay everyone,” PJ announced, hopping up on their coffee table, clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Are we ready to rock out with our cocks out?” 

“Yeah,” someone started cheering, others joining in after a moment. Dan could hear Charlie laughing.

“I don’t believe you. I asked: are we ready?” PJ asked again, this time everyone cheering, even Dan. “Then let’s get going! The night is young!”

This was almost like the night of Dan’s last competition, PJ the Pied Piper about to lead everyone on a merry jaunt around the city. But Dan couldn’t deny there was a part of him excited to see what going out in a big city was like. He hadn’t gone out since moving up north and he didn’t remember anything about London. He didn’t plan on getting absolutely pissed tonight, so everything would be fine, Dan thought as he continued to cheer, caught up in everyone else’s excitement. 

Everyone eventually followed PJ out the door, hooting and hollering down the hallway to the elevator and the stairs. They were definitely going to get a noise complaint, Dan thought fondly as he locked the front door before following the Pied Piper down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, guys, guys. so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	16. barcarolle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> barcarolle: A boating song, generally describing the songs sung by gondoliers in Venice.
> 
> tw: vomiting, mentions of drinking

Dan sat up straight in bed, his stomach rolling as he disentangled himself from the body next to him. His mouth started to fill up with saliva and Dan’s eyes widened at the implication. He stumbled out of bed, stepping over the clothes that were sprawled out on the floor of his room. He slapped a hand over his mouth as he made his way quickly across his bedroom floor and across the hall to the bathroom, doing his best not to throw up on the carpet that was all over the flat. He threw up a little in his hand just before he made it to the toilet and he would have made a face if he wasn’t currently throwing up everything from the past twenty-four hours. He clutched at the side of the toilet, kneeling down on his knees to try and bring a stop to his rolling stomach. It felt like when he was younger and his family went on a ship across the English Channel. The choppy waters made Dan’s young stomach roll more than it should have and he threw up over the side of the boat. 

His eyes teared up from the repeated use of his throat muscles and sat back on his legs as he stopped throwing up. He waited a few moments to see how his stomach felt before standing up and washing his hands and swishing water in his mouth. He looked back at the toilet and wrinkled his nose at the smell emitting from there. He took a few pieces of toilet paper and wiped at the side of the toilet where his vomit covered hand had laid. He had barely thrown it in the toilet when the scent of vomit reached his nose again causing him to gag and begin to throw up again.

So much for not getting drunk, Dan thought idly as he thought back to how the night had started to go so downhill. 

_ The walk to the club was so much different than the last time Dan went out with PJ, Chris, and Phil. Instead of PJ glued to his phone to GPS their way to the club and Dan awkwardly being dragged along (and pestering Phil), PJ had linked his arm with Dan’s and kept bursting out in songs to get everyone pumped for a night out. Chris’s arm was looped through PJ’s other arm and he was belting out the tune to some jazzy song Dan could only vaguely recognize. Dan looked back a few times to see how Phil was doing with all the walking and felt himself relax when he saw Phil was keeping up with the group, even if he could hear Charlie talking a mile a minute.  _

_ Getting into the club took a while, waiting in the line outside. At least this time Dan wasn’t freezing, he thought as he chatted with a couple guys from the rink about the trainers. Phil was being unnaturally quiet in the back, talking mainly to Charlie, who had his arm looped through Phil’s. Dan shook his head away from the image, reminding himself that he had linked arms with PJ and Chris before getting to the club.  _

_ He needed to stop fixating on Phil. _

_ With that thought in mind, he turned away from staring at Phil and went back to talking with Jack about Louise’s training regimes and comparing theirs. By the time they were finally let in the club, everyone seemed to be vibrating with excitement. Chris was hopping up and down on the balls of his feet like he physically couldn’t get the jitters out.  _

_ Going into the club, Dan felt overwhelmed. It had the bright lights and pounding music that they had been able to hear outside, but he had forgotten just how crowded clubs could get. He followed PJ to the bar, resisting the urge to turn around and check on Phil. Phil was an adult, he could look after himself. And if not, he had Charlie. _

_ Everyone ordered a beer (some of the older guys ordering two) and Dan felt himself relax. This wasn’t going to be like London. There would be no shot consumption tonight.  _

Dan leaned his head against the cool rim of the toilet seat, ignoring how someone’s ass had probably sat there at some point in the past twenty-four hours. He groaned and didn’t make the effort to move as more memories came forward from last night.

_ “Shots,” Chris exclaimed after Dan finished up his beer.  _

_ “Nah, I'm good mate,” Dan said as he handed the empty beer bottle to the bartender and ordered another beer.  _

_ “Don’t wuss out on me Daniel,” Chris said, putting on his best pleading face. “C’mon.” _

_ “Yeah, Daniel,” Charlie called. “Don’t wuss out on him!” _

_ Dan felt his eyes narrow, knowing he was being egged on. He held strong for all of five seconds before he turned back to Chris and sighed. “Fine, but just one.”  _

_ “That’s all I’m asking,” Chris said, holding up his hand in a pledge. He turned to the bartender and ordered a few shots for various people in the group and handed the first one to Dan.  _

Dan slowly got up, making sure to flush the toilet this time and walked past his room to the kitchen. He dug in the fridge for a bottle of apple juice, swearing to whatever deity or void that was listening that he would buy PJ another one tomorrow at Asda. The thought of Asda triggered another memory to pop into Dan’s mind. 

_ The group had split up. It was down to Chris, Phil, Charlie, Jack, PJ, and Dan leaning against a wall near the bar, screaming at each other over the music. Dan was talking to Jack and doing his best not to look over at Phil every few seconds.  _

_ “Holy shit,” Chris shouted, directly in Dan’s ear before taking his head and turning it in the opposite direction, where PJ was sitting turned towards a group of girls at the bar. His face was absolutely gobsmacked, mouth dropped open and his hand barely holding on to the bottle of ale in his hand. Dan had only ever seen PJ look this… this besotted when he was thinking about Sophie, the Asda cashier. Dan had to get a glimpse of this mystery girl. He shook his head to get Chris’s hands off him and he turned fully to face the group of girls. _

_ It was hard to make out what they looked like in the dim lighting of the club but Dan waited until there was a burst of light from the dance floor and nearly dropped his bottle in surprise. There, hanginging towards the back of the group was Sophie, who had her arms crossed across her chest. She was wearing a mid-thigh, silver dress and Dan was worried PJ was going to combust from seeing this much of Sophie’s skin. Her skin was pink and yellow under the lights and her hair was down out of its usual ponytail in loose brown curls that hit her shoulders.  _

_ Chris walked around Dan and Jack and thumped on PJ’s back. Dan couldn’t make out what he was saying over the sound of the music, but he watched as Chris gave PJ a shove towards the group. PJ stumbled and looked back at the group. Dan gave him a thumbs up to try and seem encouraging. It must have worked since PJ stood there, squared up his (rather bony) shoulders, and turned to walk over to Sophie and her group. Chris followed him. _

_ Jack slapped Dan’s shoulder, as a way to get his attention. _

_ “I’m going to go join them. You know, give some support,” Jack shouted with a cheeky grin as he eyed the group of girls Sophie was with.  _

_ “Good luck,” Dan shouted back, giving Jack a few good luck thumps on the back. Jack followed PJ over and Dan turned away from that group and looked over at Phil and Charlie, who seemed to be talking furiously at Phil. Dan looked down and saw Phil’s hands gripping tightly at the crutches. Dan looked away before Charlie could catch him looking and took a long sip from his bottle. The next time Dan looked over, Charlie was storming off from the wall into the crush of the crowd.  _

_ Dan looked to the side at Phil, whose head was tilted back and leaning against the wall. Dan scooted over a few spots and bumped his shoulder with Phil’s. _

_ “Everything okay!?” Dan yelled when Phil finally turned to look at him. Phil lifted and dropped his shoulders in a shrug.  _

_ “He wanted to dance,” Phil explained. “Out in the crowd.”  _

_ Dan looked out into the crowd and saw Charlie’s bright red shirt stand out on the fringes of the crowd before being swallowed up easily. Dan was about to ask why Phil didn’t go out and join him when the hint of the crutches caught his eye. Right, broken ankle. Dan turned to Phil and shimmied his shoulders as a Ke$ha song started playing. He was loose from the beer and the shot going through his body.  _

_ “I hear your heart beat to the beat of the drums. Oh, what a shame that you came here with someone. So while you're here in my arms-“ Dan started to shout sing, dancing around Phil like a demented chicken. He felt gratified when Phil tipped his head back, laughing wildly before joining in. _

_ “-let's make the most of the night like we're gonna die young,” Phil joined in before doing a shoulder shimmy that would have been at home on Glee (look, Dan was only human and had watched an episode or a whole season). Dan beamed and threw his head back with a laugh. Dan bounced around Phil, whose own dancing was categorized by his hands moving in front of his chest. After another few songs, Phil tilted his head and jerked it towards the door.  _

_ “Wanna head out of here?”  _

Dan took a few seconds to take a long sip of the apple juice, nearly moaning with how good the cool liquid felt on his sore throat. He downed the rest of the bottle quickly (sure he would regret this soon) and threw away the bottle before quietly walking into the lounge. There was a body laid across the couch, but Dan could tell from the brown hair that it wasn’t Phil. But he knew he came home with Phil. That means that the body laying in his bed was Phil. The body that had been wrapped around him, wrapped around him like a  _ lover _ , this morning had been Phil and Dan had felt so safe before the nausea had settled over and-

Dan dug his nails into his hands and shook his head to get _that_ _word_ out of his head. 

He walked back to his room and paused in the doorway when he saw black hair peeking out from beneath the covers. Dan flipped off the lights, which he must have forgotten to switch off last night, and walked closer. He pulled the covers down a bit and sighed in relief when he noticed the other boy was still mostly dressed from last night, wearing a pair of blue underwear and his Muse shirt. He didn’t look much different from Dan, now that he realized it, only Dan was wearing a black pair of underwear. 

Dan let the duvet drop back down on Phil’s face. 

_ “Can… can I take off my joggers?” A giggling Phil asked a while later. When they had gotten back to Dan’s apartment, they had sat in the living room playing Mario and drinking a few more beers. Dan was pleasantly buzzed. Phil started complaining he was sleepy but didn’t want to go home. _

_ “Yeah, yeah, course,” Dan laughed and nodded his head, before tilting his head to the side and watching Phil undo his pants. Snap, snap, snap. Dan listened to the snaps come undone down the side. Phil preferred sweats but he liked how easy the buttons were right now, Dan remembered Phil saying a few weeks ago. Phil’s face had twisted into a laugh with his tongue sticking out.  _

_ When Phil finished taking his joggers off, Dan felt himself flush hot but he turned and undid the button on his jeans, shimmying out of them and leaving them in a heap on the floor.  _

_ Phil was humming a song, the same one that Chris had been singing earlier, as he climbed into Dan’s bed on the side closest to the wall.  _

_ “What song is that?” Dan asked as he followed Phil into bed after a moment of debate. So what if they were two guys. Two dudes. Two bros. Dan wasn’t sleeping on the floor of his room without a blanket, even if Phil was doing his best to hog it. _

_ "You’ve never heard this song? Muse did a cover of it. Grab my phone from my pocket.” _

_ “You grab it,” Dan muttered from the pillow but rolled over and grabbed Phil’s phone from his pants that he had dropped close to the bed. He handed it off to Phil, who was making himself comfortable on Dan’s one pillow. Dan could feel Phil’s breath against his neck momentarily as he quickly tapped away on his phone.  _

_ What was it like to just. Get on the Internet on his phone? Dan would accidentally hit the Internet symbol on his phone and spend ten frantic seconds trying to exit out before it started charging for data. Either way, Phil's typing started producing music and Phil set the phone on the sliver of pillow between them.  _

_ Dan turned so he was laying on his side facing Phil as Matt Bellamy started to sing. Phil sang along with him, and Dan couldn’t stop his smile as Phil managed to hit a few of the notes.  _

_ “You're just too good to be true. I can't take my eyes off you. You'd be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much.”  _

_ It wasn’t as smooth as Matt, but Phil seemed to be having a good time. He was smiling. Dan felt the lyrics wrap around in his head and he wanted to feel someone, anyone touch him. Phil. He wanted Phil to hold him. Dan had never felt this kind of longing until this moment, and he bit the inside of his cheek to stop from reaching out for Phil’s hand, arm, anything.  _

_ “At long last love has arrived. And I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off you,” Phil sang, meeting Dan’s eyes and so many things snapped into place like a rubber band against his wrist.  _

_ This.  _

_ This was making sense. Dan had never been able to take his eyes off of Phil and Dan might  _ **_like_ ** _ him. Like him, like him.  _

_ Dan shut his eyes against Phil’s eyes and let Phil’s off time singing (and his own feelings) wash over him.  _

Dan couldn’t breathe. Of course he’d get blackout drunk in London and forget a whole night, but he couldn’t get blackout drunk enough to forget a life changing revelation. 

He liked Phil. Had a crush.  _ Fancied him _ . This was a disaster.

“Dan?” Phil’s muffled voice spoke, before poking out of the duvet burrito. “Dan?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Can you shut off the sun?”

Dan barked out a laugh. He listened to Phil groan, rolling his head into the pillow. God, Dan wanted to crawl back into bed and cuddle as close as they had this morning. 

“You’re so loud this morning. How are you not dying?” Phil asked.

“Because I already threw up my soul this morning,” Dan quipped. Phil wrinkled his nose. “Need me to get you water?”

“Please,” Phil croaked. 

“Old man,” Dan said as Phil squawked in disagreement, before grabbing at his forehead and whining because of the loud noise. 

Dan walked back to the kitchen and filled up a glass of water for Phil. As he was walking out of the kitchen, he all but ran over a small body. 

“Oof,” the body said and Dan looked down and blinked. Sophie the Asda cashier was in his apartment. She was still wearing the sparkly silver dress from last night but her hair looked a lot less sleek and her makeup was pretty smudged. But she smiled when she saw Dan. “Sorry!”

“No, no, it was my bad,” Dan said, placating her. He checked on the water and noticed he spilled some on the floor and Sophie. “Er. Need me to get you a towel?” 

“No, no, most of it ended up on the floor. I’m fine,” Sophie said, kneeling down to pick up her purse that was left by the door. 

“You okay?” Dan asked, a little concerned at fast Sophie was moving to get out of the apartment. 

“Yeah, I just have a shift in a few hours,” Sophie said with a reassuring smile before tucking some hair back behind her ear. “Oh! I need to leave my number. If you think PJ would call? I wouldn’t want to leave it if-“

Sophie stopped to bite her lip and looked flushed and nervous. Dan knew the feeling, he thought looking down at the cup of water.

“He’ll call. You can leave your number or at least send a text to him if you want?” Dan asked, giving Sophie a smile. He was rewarded with a beaming smile from Sophie. She pulled her phone out of her purse and looked at Dan expectantly. 

Ah, young love, Dan thought sardonically as he gave Sophie PJ’s number. He wondered if he looked like this when he simply  _ talked _ about Phil. All shiny eyed and nervous smiles. 

After saying goodbye to Sophie, he wiped up the spilt water and refilled the glass. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sophie and PJ.

Maybe, just maybe, if it could work out like that for Phil and him. Maybe it could work out. It seemed unlikely, but everything else here seemed to be going okay. It seemed to be a much more accepting environment than back home in Reading. Dan bit his lip to hide his smile as he turned to go back to his room. 

As he approached his bedroom, he heard Phil talking from in there. He waited in the hallway, trying to give him some privacy but could hear what seemed to be the end of the conversation.

“Text me the address and I’ll be there soon. Bye Charlie.” 

Dan walked in and looked at Phil. Phil was sitting up in bed, his head held in both of his hands. He handed the water wordlessly to Phil and watched him gulp it down like a health potion in a video game. Dan bit his lower lip in guilt. 

Charlie. How could he have forgotten about Charlie? Phil’s boyfriend? God, he really was the worst person. Of course they wouldn’t work out. Not when Phil had fun, spontaneous Charlie, who wasn’t scared to put his hand on Phil’s knee in public. 

“I hate to hydrate and run,” Phil started as he stood up. He set the empty glass on Dan’s nightstand and gestured to his joggers. Dan rolled his eyes but bent down and picked them up and handed them to Phil. “But duty calls.” 

“Yeah, no, I understand,” Dan said, his smile feeling forced. “Famous singers have to sleep and run all the time.”

This was the wrong thing to say, Dan thought as he watched Phil turn a little pink. 

“I. Can we not mention that? I was really drunk,” Phil stayed, his face getting a bit pinker.

“Yeah,” Dan said after a moment, handing Phil his crutches. He was glad he was able to hide the disappointment on his face. “Of course I won’t. Lips sealed.”

Phil looked so relieved that Dan wanted to cry. Of course Phil wouldn’t want Dan to mention it; he had a boyfriend after all. Of course it meant nothing to Phil who was drunk at the time. That was just Phil goofing around and Dan took it too seriously. 

“I um. I’ll see you around,” Dan said, looking down at the floor. 

“I’ll text you later,” Phil said as he started to swing out of Dan’s room. “Promise.”

“Yeah,” Dan said as he watched Phil go. His heart twisted into a knot in his chest filled with anticipation and disappointment. “Can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so that bed sharing, am i right?
> 
> but holy shit biscuits you guys. over 1700 hits? i'm stunned. thank you to everyone who has read/is reading this. you're what continue to inspire me to write. 
> 
> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	17. fika prt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fika: functioning as both a verb and a noun, the concept of fika is simple. It is the moment that you take a break, often with a cup of coffee, but alternatively with tea, and find a baked good to pair with it. You can do it alone, you can do it with friends. You can do it at home, in a park or at work. But the essential thing is that you do it, that you make time to take a break: that’s what fika is all about.

When Dan still lived in Wokingham, any time he had something to think over, he would go to the rink and skate. Mom and dad fighting? Time to skate, if it wasn’t too late at night. Didn’t do too well on a mock (and later on, an actual) A-level exam? Go to the rink until Lena made him feel exhausted from practicing. Have a fight with his girlfriend because he spent more time skating instead of communicating with her? Probably not the best idea, but Dan would skate more. It was the easiest way for him to turn his brain off and have time away from the constant barrage of his anxiety inducing thoughts. 

So now sitting in his room, having discovered he had more than platonic feelings for Phil (if he didn’t call it a crush, it would go away), it seemed natural for him to get up and pack a bag. There was probably an open skate today, Dan thought as he changed into a pair of workout gear. So what if his body currently felt like revolting? He could hopefully shut off the feeling long enough to skate in circles around the rink. 

He paused. 

It was a weird feeling, knowing that instead of going to Ice Castle with its familiar mix of 70’s and 80’s pop music, he would be going to an open skate. Would they also play too much ABBA as a (sometimes) spinning disco ball dropped? Would the snack bar be open with the shitty nachos? He knew the locker room was different, but would he still be able to get into the zone? Ice Castle was a lot smaller, not as crowded. He assumed Sheffield would be significantly more crowded since it was in a bigger city after all. He bit his lip and felt his stomach roll. Maybe he shouldn’t go, with his stomach this upset? 

He set the bag down and laid back down in his bed, where Phil had been laying not too long ago. Dan reached out and touched his tan sheets, amazed at how cool they already felt. Usually Dan radiated enough heat that he left the sheets feeling warm for a little bit after getting up. Dan turned and pressed his face into his pillow, letting out a deep sigh. He’s only known he liked Phil for less than an hour and here he was pining like some sort of an idiot. He laid there for a while, thinking about Phil. 

Phil, who was funny and smart and a little weird if Dan was being honest. Phil, who was the best skater in England, even if he was out of commission with his ankle. Phil, who would talk with him late at night when Dan couldn’t sleep. Phil, who seemed to like so many of the same things as Dan and was excited to talk to him about them. Phil, who didn’t get mad at Dan when he got too loud, who laughed along with him. Phil, who sang to him last night, even if he didn’t want to talk about it. Phil, who had pretty blue eyes and black hair and kissable lips and- 

Dan got up fast (ignoring how his stomach felt queasy at the rapid movement), grabbed his bag, and marched to the kitchen. He wasn’t going to sit here and pine; he was going to skate and forget all about this since it was an impossible crush anyway. Phil had  _ Charlie _ and Dan had never disliked someone more than he disliked Charlie in this minute, not even Adam from school. He grabbed another bottle of apple juice and headed out the door, making extra sure to shut the door quietly so he didn’t wake up whoever was sleeping on the lounge couch. 

The weather out was annoyingly perfect. Dan wished he could have enjoyed the feeling of the cool, but not cold, breeze that blew against him but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Phil’s hair had brushed against his forehead last night as they shared the pillow. He couldn’t stop thinking about Phil. 

Lena had always said he was stubborn and “prone to fixate on things”. Dan had never believed her about the second part because he was an athlete; he was supposed to fixate on his performance. But he had never really noticed how he could fixate on something outside of skating until today. Every time he tried to enjoy the sun while sitting on the slightly sticky bus seat, he was reminded of Phil’s sunshine smile and yuck. He didn’t want to be thinking like this. He didn’t come to Sheffield to find anyone, especially someone so… so Phil. 

When the bus finally arrived at his stop, he thanked the bus driver and walked around the back of the building so he could get into the locker room for his skates. He stretched on the floor before lacing up. He wasn’t planning on working through his routine but if he got in the mood, he wanted to be stretched out just in case. He grabbed his phone and headphones, plugging them in and walking out to the rink, stopping as he went to open the door onto the ice. 

On the ice were a man and a woman. Dan looked back on the rink and noticed no one else was in the bleachers. Had he stumbled into a closed practice? It was 9:45 am on a Saturday after all, fifteen minutes before the rink opened. It was entirely possible he had, since he was never here on Saturdays. The man was tall and had ginger hair. He was focused on the absolutely tiny woman he had just tossed into the air. She had a huge smile on her face as she spun midair, her bright, fire engine red curls shifting around wildly as she came back down onto the ice facing backwards. She reached out towards the man, who skated forward to clasp hands with her before twisting and spinning her outwards like they were dancing on regular ground. 

Dan snuck backwards to the bleachers and watched the pair for a while. He had never really been into pairs skating, even when he was younger and Rebecca’s mom had asked about it. But he could tell these two had been skating together for a while from the easy way the two would adjust themselves to meet the other. It was beautiful to watch, even if Dan couldn’t notice technical flaws in the routine. He was so absorbed in watching them it felt jarring to watch the man drop dramatically to the ice and lay on the ground. 

“No more, Corn,” the man said, echoing clearly in the empty rink. “You’ve broken me.”

“Oh, you baby,” the woman, Corn (Dan wasn’t going to ask), cooed as she reached down and tugged on his hand. “Come on, stand up. We have an audience.” 

Dan looked around both sides of him. No one else was there. He looked down at his knee caps and hunched over, like that was going to hide him. Curse his constantly growing body; not only did it throw his jumps off but it turned him into a hard to hide person. 

“Don’t be shy! Come over!” Corn yelled enthusiastically. Dan pointed at himself and tried not to groan when Corn nodded enthusiastically. 

Dan got up and carefully set his bottle and skate guards down on the bleachers. He shoved his headphones into the pocket of the jacket he had on. He jammed his headphones into his jacket pocket as he slowly opened the door to the ice rink and skated over towards them. Her hair was definitely more red up close and definitely not regulation, Dan thought before the man cut in. 

“Did my mom send you? I told her I wouldn’t forget to unlock the front door this time,” the man said with a fond roll of his eyes. 

“No, uh,” Dan started, rubbing the back of his neck. The man looked a little familiar but he couldn’t place him. Maybe he had passed him in the hall at one point? “Uh, I didn’t realize there was a private practice this morning. I’m sorry.”

“Do you skate here or did you come up with Charlie?” the man asked, slowly skating in a circle. Dan turned to follow him. “Are you a  _ spy _ ?”

“Jesus, no. I skate here during the week,” Dan said.

“There’s no way. You’re way too young,” Martyn said. 

“I’m eighteen. My name’s Dan,” Dan said, nervous, unzipping his jacket pocket and holding up his lanyard. 

The man stopped moving and a shit eating crossed his face. He turned and said something quickly to Corn in a language that Dan didn’t know. His eyes darted between the two and he was surprised when Corn took his hand. 

“My name’s Cornelia and this is Martyn. Sorry about him; Martyn gets a little paranoid after Hook and Brady stole part of our routine a few years ago,” Cornelia explained with a sunny grin that gave her laughter lines around her eyes. Martyn grunted but didn’t fight her about being called paranoid. He took Dan’s hand after Cornelia let go. 

“So you’re the famous Dan,” he said with a smirk.

“Er, no, not famous, just Dan,” Dan explained with a nervous laugh. Famous? How would anyone call him famous?

“No, you are. My brother talks about you all the time,” Martyn said, laughing when Cornelia elbowed him, muttering something that sounded like “hall kraft ton”. Was this their own made up language? God, paired skaters were weird. 

“Er, who's your brother?” Dan asked, blinking rapidly in concentration. The answer came to him right before Martyn answered. 

“Phil,” Martyn said. “Won’t stop talking about you. Dan did this in practice, Dan said that. Gives more of an update than Katie does.”

Dan felt himself flush at the information. God, this wasn’t helping him get his mind off Phil. This was making it worse, hearing that he talked about him ‘all the time’? What did he say? How did he say it? Was it fond? Exasperated? He was pulled out of his trip to la la land by Cornelia waving a hand in his face. 

“We were about to take a fika, did you want to join us?” 

“Er, sure?” Dan said, sounding unsure to his own ears. It wasn’t like taking a fika with Phil’s brother would get his mind off Phil, but it would be rude to turn it down. “What’s a fa-kah?”

“Oh, um. It’s fee-kah. It’s a coffee break,” Cornelia explained, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “Sorry, sometimes I still think in Swedish.”

“It’s okay, it’s cute, Corn,” Martyn said, patting her shoulder. 

So, not a made up language, Dan thought as he followed them off the ice. Nice to know. Martyn led them out of the rink area after pausing so everyone could slip on their skate guards. They walked out to the main lobby where someone was counting money at the till behind a glass screen. 

“How long have you two been skating together?” Dan asked as Martyn unlocked the front door. 

“Oh, six… seven years,” Martyn said as he pushed open the door for the small crowd outside the front door. 

“Eight,” Cornelia clarified.

“Eight,” Martyn said immediately after. “So we’ve been dating for...three years then?”

“Ding ding ding, you are correct,” Cornelia said as they led Dan down a hallway to where the offices were. He had been down with Phil a few times to the offices but hadn’t been allowed to just hang out inside one. 

“Feels like forever,” Martyn jokes, laughing as Cornelia sticks her tongue out at Martyn. 

“Is it okay for me to be here?” Dan asked as he stood outside the office.

“Yeah, you’re with us, come on in,” Martyn said. “Does Phil make you stand outside?”

“Usually, unless he needs me to grab something for him,” Dan explained, stepping into the office. One of the walls was jammed full of trophies, while another wall had a small cloth couch in the corner. The desk was small but cluttered with paperwork and filing trays. There was also a small TV in the corner closest to the desk on an old fashioned rolling cart that reminded Dan of science class when they would get to watch David Attenbourough documentaries because they had a sub. Near the desk was a small island that had a coffee machine and a few mugs sitting on top. Martyn was standing by the island pouring coffee while Cornelia dug a bag full of bread out of her backpack. 

“I thought it was just a coffee break. I don’t want to crash your breakfast,” Dan said, starting to back out of the room. 

“You’re not, it’s part of fika. Think of it like tea time but much more often and more caffeinated,” Cornelia explained, separating (what turned out to be) rolls onto napkins. “Besides, Martyn’s getting chubby, he can share one.” 

“Oi,” Martyn exclaimed, pointing a spoon threateningly at her. “I’m not getting chubby.” 

Martyn turned back to the coffee and stirred in some sugar into one of the cups. “Do you take sugar Dan?”

“No, I prefer my coffee as black as my soul,” Dan said, fighting a smile on his face. He knew it was the right answer when they both started laughing.

“So lots of cream and sugar,” Cornelia said, turning to Martyn. She turned on Dan with a sly grin on her face and winked. “At least according to Phil.” 

Dan didn’t have a quip for that. He felt his ears start to heat up as he looked away. He read a few names on the trophy wall and tried not to choke on his own tongue when he saw Kathryn and Nigel Lester’s names. “Phil’s a dirty, dirty liar. I have a soul blacker than Satan.” 

“No, he isn’t a liar,” Cornelia said through a laugh. 

“Yes, he is,” Martyn cut in, handing Dan a mug of black coffee. Dan took a sip and was surprised to find a hint of sweetness. Martyn must have added in a few scoops of sugar when he was distracted. “And because of that, I have to ask, is it true you’re skating his old program?” 

“Phil was the one who suggested it,” Dan said, feeling his shoulders rise defensively. 

“Oh, I know he did. Mum was excited someone was finally going to use that routine considering how much she paid for it. How’s it going?” Martyn asked, sitting down on the couch that was shoved into the corner of the office. 

Dan felt himself relax after a minute as he talked about all the bright sides of the routine: the way he was learning more of the routine daily, how solid the first half felt, how good Katie was at coaching. He didn’t talk about the constant feeling that something was off in the second half or how he still felt too masculine when his inspiration was more feminine or the way he felt like he was trying to fit himself into a Phil shaped mold when really he wanted to be Dan. It didn’t help that Martyn had brought up the cost of the routine. But he seemed to have pulled off the positivity on a good enough note because then Cornelia started talking about their routine. They ended up spending about thirty minutes talking about skating when suddenly someone cleared their throat at the door. 

It was Mrs. Kathryn. 

“Mum,” Martyn exclaimed. He beamed at the woman who walked into the room, beelining immediately for the coffee pot. “I thought you took today off.”

“I was going to but I heard a bunch of hooligans were hanging out in my office,” Kathryn said, her smile betraying her serious tone. She poured a cup of coffee and drank it straight. 

Dan was impressed. 

“How are you doing Daniel? Not getting into too much trouble?” Mrs. Kathryn asked, turning to face Dan. Dan choked on his coffee in surprise and sloshed some of the still lukewarm liquid down the front of his jacket. Dan refused to hiss as it soaked in. 

“I um, no, not too much trouble. Any trouble at all,” Dan said, biting the inside of his cheek to not nervously laugh like a deranged person as the image of Phil singing to him last night flashed in his mind. Yeah, definitely wasn’t going to mention that he was crushing on her son to Mrs. Kathryn. Ever. 

“What a shame,” Mrs. Kathryn said with a laugh. “Does that mean you didn’t go out last night with the boys?”

“Oh no, I did,” Dan said. “I just went home pretty early.” 

“What a responsible boy,” Mrs. Kathryn said, nodding her head almost in approval. “And are Phil and Charlie still at the apartment? Phil hasn’t called me yet for a ride.”

“I think they took a taxi,” Dan said, omitting the truth that he honestly didn’t know where they were. But he was positive Phil had taken a taxi to go to wherever Charlie was, so it was honestly only half a lie. A lie-ette. 

“Probably didn’t want to wake you up,” Martyn cut in, meeting Dan’s eyes and raising an eyebrow. Dan nodded in agreement. 

“Hmmm,” Kathryn hummed around a sip of coffee. “Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask Phil to ask you! What are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Grocery shopping and then eating dinner. Why?” Dan asked, gripping the coffee cup between his hands to stop them from shaking nervously. 

“It’s a tradition to invite the new people round to our house for a Sunday roast. I remember staying in Canada and getting homesick so I try to invite the new people around at least once to ease that feeling,” Mrs. Kathryn explained.

“Oh, Kath makes a mean roast,” Cornelia cut in. “Cuts like butter.” 

Dan felt his mouth fill up with drool at the idea of a Sunday roast. He missed his Nan’s cooking something fierce and while Indian Food Sunday was fun, it wasn’t anything like a Sunday roast, especially when he remembered the pictures Phil would send dutifully every Sunday. “I um. If it’s not an imposition-“

“Oh posh posh, I invited you in the first place,” Mrs. Kathryn said, another smile crossing her face. “We’ll see you tomorrow at 6.”

“That sounds lovely,” Dan said, meaning it. 

“Wonderful. Talk to Phil for the address. And tell him if you need a ride. Now skedaddle you hooligans, I need to run payroll,” she said, making shooing motions at the three of them. She looked at the desk and made a noise of delight. “Oh thank you, Cornelia. I love these cinnamon rolls.” 

“You’re welcome, Kath,” Cornelia called back into the room. Dan set his empty coffee mug down near the coffee maker and headed out to go back to the rink.

“Thank you,” Dan called into the room as he left. He walked with Martyn and Cornelia back to the rink. Cornelia got back on the ice, skating away like a shot, with an enthusiastic wave at Dan. Martyn stopped Dan from entering the rink with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Well, that went well,” Martyn said, looking at Dan. “Now where exactly is my brother?”

“I don’t know,” Dan confessed. “Charlie called this morning and-“

“Say no more. The less I know, the easier to lie,” Martyn said, holding up a hand. He bit his lower lip and looked back at Dan, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome?” Dan said, feeling honestly confused. What had he done that deserved thanks? He let Phil wander around Sheffield injured. 

“It’s just that. Phil likes to think he can save everyone. Even Charlie,” Martyn said with a shrug. “It’s nice to see people looking out for Phil for a change. That’s all.”

“Oh,” Dan said, still feeling confused. It felt like there was a hidden layer to the conversation that Dan was missing. Martyn gave his shoulder another pat and got onto the ice, chasing down Cornelia, who shrieked when Martyn skated up behind her and grabbed her waist. 

Dan stood by the door watching them. He felt a moment of wishing that was Phil and him. He wanted to skate  _ with  _ Phil not instead of. He shook his head. 

He was going to have to skate extra hard today to get his mind off of Phil, he thought as his skates touched down on the ice seconds later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys keep blowing me away and i want to cry. thank you so much for the continued support .
> 
> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	18. fika prt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fika: functioning as both a verb and a noun, the concept of fika is simple. It is the moment that you take a break, often with a cup of coffee, but alternatively with tea, and find a baked good to pair with it. You can do it alone, you can do it with friends. You can do it at home, in a park or at work. But the essential thing is that you do it, that you make time to take a break: that’s what fika is all about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! another chapter to celebrate (and i can't believe i'm saying this) over 2100 hits! a special shout out to my beta lou for the quick turn around on this monster of a chapter.
> 
> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!

Dan slumped down in the bus seat, listening to Say Anything and staring out the window of the bus, not taking in any of the sights of the few bus stops before his own. 

He had run through his routine multiple times until he felt dizzy, and then kept going, wanting to perfect something, anything, really, and ended up spending six hours total on the ice. Nothing uncommon for him in Wokingham, but nothing he had been doing up here in Sheffield where they pushed you but didn’t want you to accidentally injure yourself, especially after Phil’s injury. He hadn’t even considered doing off ice training until he stepped off the ice and noticed he had a few missed text messages from Phil. He scanned through them, ignoring how the smiling emojis made his stomach flutter and messaged back, making sure to ask for Phil’s address. At Phil’s enthusiastic reply, he made the decision to do some off ice workouts and stretches. 

It was nearly seven by the time he had gotten on the bus and nearly 7:30 by the time he got home. PJ and Chris were up and very loud in the lounge and the guy on the couch had gone home. His head had felt clearer, less Phil filled, until PJ and Chris started arguing about what Indian place to order from on Sunday. 

“Dan, where do you want to order from tomorrow? I think it’s your turn in the rotation,” Chris said, turning to face Dan with his arms crossed. 

“Oh um, I won’t be here for dinner tomorrow,” Dan said, looking up guiltily from his phone where Phil had been asking him if he needed a ride to dinner. He had responded with a no and Phil was trying to convince him to take the ride instead of the bus. 

“Oh?” PJ said, looking up from his phone and raising an eyebrow and looking too gleeful. He had been glued to his phone since Dan had gotten home (and probably before that), texting someone that made him absolutely  _ giddy _ . His fingers were constantly moving and he kept biting his lower lip as if he was biting down a smile and he kept laughing randomly. He wouldn’t say who he was texting, no matter how much Chris badgered him, but Dan guessed that it was Sophie. Dan loosened his bottom lip from between his teeth, suddenly feeling a little too obvious about how he felt about Phil. If he noticed how giddy PJ was, someone would be able to see how happy he was just talking to Phil. 

“I was invited over to Phil’s house for Sunday roast,” Dan said, looking back down at his phone when the notification sound went off on it. It was a message from his mom asking if now was a good time to call. He messaged back saying he’d call her in ten minutes. 

“Oh, Kath does a great roast,” Chris said, looking a little starry eyed at the mere mention of Mrs. Kathryn’s roast. “She has this gravy on there and just. Delicious.”

“I’m suddenly wishing we knew how to cook,” PJ said, sounding genuinely sad that they were ice skaters instead of chefs. 

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll look up a recipe and learn to cook a roast,” Chris said, patting PJ on the shoulder. “You know, since Dan is abandoning us. We’ll have our own roast party.”

“The only thing that will be roasted is our flat,” Dan said, getting up with a stretch. “I need to go call my mum.” 

PJ and Chris immediately started making over-the-top, obnoxious moaning and orgasm noises as Dan flipped them the bird. “Fuck off, you lot.”

“Oh, harder Danny,” Chris moaned out, sounding almost like a girl. If Dan wasn’t annoyed by it, he’d be impressed. He walked out of the lounge and hid in his room before dialing his mom’s number. 

“Well, that was a quick ten minutes,” she said, sounding cheerful. That meant nothing bad had happened to anyone down there. That’s good. “How are you, love?”

“I’m okay,” Dan said, picking at his duvet cover. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, everything is fine. I just haven’t heard from you in a week,” she said, and Dan could hear the shrug in her voice. “So what’s going on up there? Are you eating enough?”

“Yeah, I’m doing fine. I’ve been practicing a lot,” Dan said before launching into what he has been working on. He knew his mom didn’t understand a word about what he was saying as far as the technical aspect of skating by the way she hummed in agreement occasionally. He occasionally wished she would ask about it, but he was just glad she was generally supportive and not an Ice Skater Mum. He saw too many over-involved parents at Ice Palace and was thankful she never scolded him until he cried because he fell during practice. 

“That sounds good, bear,” she said and Dan could hear the faint clicking of a keyboard in the background. “Have you been studying for your A-Level?”

“Yes,” Dan said, giving a half truth. He didn’t study  _ this _ week but maybe tomorrow after grocery shopping, he’d sit down and study for a few hours before going to the Lester’s for supper.

“Oh, um, I was invited to the Lester’s for Sunday roast tomorrow,” Dan said, impressed when her typing stopped.

“Really?” She asked, sounding genuinely excited. “That’s great! Oh, you need to make sure you take them something.”

“Like what?” Dan asked, laying back against his bed, letting his head rest against the wall. 

“Flowers? No, they might be allergic. Hmm. Maybe a red wine? You said it was a roast, right?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, biting at his lower lip. 

“Yes, a red wine will be good. Please go to the store tomorrow and pick out something good,” his mom said. 

“How will I know if it’s good?” Dan asked because honestly? He would drink anything put down in front of him. 

“Something above 30 pounds, I imagine,” his mom said. “If you spend a little bit too much, I’ll send you some money.”

“You don’t have to do that mum,” Dan said, biting the inside of his check. “I have some money still.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I promise, I’ll get something good,” Dan said, sure he would be up half the night researching exactly what that meant. Time to become a wine… drinker. Consumer? Expert? Was there a word for a wine expert? “Do you have anything to recommend?”

“Oh, I drink white wine normally,” his mom said. “That doesn’t really go with roast though.”

Okay, Dan thought, looks like Google was definitely getting a workout tonight. It was going to think he was becoming a fancy, opera listening wine snob. Great, he couldn’t even escape bullying from a search engine. 

“Good to know,” Dan said. “How’s school going? How’s Wokingham?” 

As his mom started to fill him in on what was going on in Wokingham, Dan pulled out his laptop and got to work searching for the perfect wine. 

-

Dan woke up Sunday feeling absolutely exhausted. It had been a while since he had trained six days in a row and yesterday had been more intensive than he originally thought it was going to be. Not to mention he had stayed up pretty late trying to figure out what kind of wine went with a roast. 

So far all he learned was that a wine expert was called a sommelier, so, that was cool. 

He had it narrowed it down to two types of wine: a Bordeaux or a Shiraz. He couldn’t tell the difference between the two but it was what was recommended on a couple of the websites he clicked on last night. Apparently a Shiraz was more mellow and blended. Or was that the Bordeaux? He shook his head and got up to stretch, knowing it would help with some of the aches in his body since he hadn’t done the best job of a cool down yesterday. 

He was bent in half at the waist, touching his toes, enjoying the stretch along his calves with a sigh, when someone knocked on his door. 

“Come in,” he called, focusing on keeping his breathing calm and even. 

“Are you almost ready to go?” PJ asked, seeming to bounce in place. 

Dan looked sideways and slowly straightened up, raising his arms above his head until he heard a vertebrate pop in his back. He looked down and grimaced as he saw his unclothed nipples poking out aggressively from the slight chill in the room. “I just woke up. Give me like ten minutes?”

PJ looked mildly disappointed as he stopped bouncing in place. “Okay.”

Dan wanted to reassure PJ that Sophie was required to be at Asda and she would be there, but he didn’t want to assume either. Maybe PJ was just really excited about going grocery shopping today. Speaking of which…

“Hey PJ, do you drink wine?” Dan called as he continued to stretch. PJ appeared back in his doorway with a confused frown on his face.

“Wine? Why would I drink wine?” PJ asked, looking genuinely bewildered. Dan felt his shoulders tense up by his ears. “Are you like… proper posh now?” 

“Nevermind then,” Dan muttered before making his way the (short) distance to his wardrobe to pull out some clothes. “Forget about it.”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed m’lord,” PJ said before tipping an invisible hat with an exaggerated bow. He straightened up and leaned against the door jam. “I honestly thought you already drank wine because of how fast you drank at that one party.”

Dan groaned in embarrassment, dropping his face into his hands where he had a tee-shirt waiting to be put on. “Let’s not talk about that night ever again.”

“Okay, okay, we won't talk about it,” PJ said placatingly, “I don’t drink wine but Chris sometimes does when we have those parties after events. Ask him when we get to Asda.”

Dan felt his shoulders sink in relief. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Now hurry up! There’s food to buy!” PJ explained before moving to the next room where from a thumping sound meant Chris was probably getting attacked by a pillow (something Dan had witnessed on more than one occasion). 

Dan finished getting ready, ignoring the yelling from the room next to him. After getting dressed, Dan went to the kitchen to see if he had any protein shakes left. He let out a victorious crow as he found a vanilla flavored one shoved towards the back of the fridge. He snagged his favorite seat in the kitchen, near the cramped corner where PJ and Chris’s roughhousing wouldn’t reach him if it made it to the kitchen. The worst that would happen is the table would shift and pin him up against the wall. Again. 

He was about half way done with his shake, drinking it slowly since he didn’t like the rather plain taste of the vanilla, when Chris and PJ appeared. 

“Are you ready?” PJ asked, staring at the protein bottle in Dan’s hand with such an intensity that Dan was surprised it didn’t explode. 

“Yeah, give me a tick,” Dan said before chugging the rest of the vanilla shake. He made a face at the taste but got up and threw away the container. 

“You shouldn’t let PJ bully you,” Chris said. “His girlfriend would still have been there if you had taken five more minutes.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” PJ muttered, his face ringing red in his cheeks. 

“Oh Sophie, I’ll save you from the Asda line with my cheesy puns,” Chris said in a bad imitation of PJ’s slow, drawling accent before switching to a falsetto. He also faked a swoon and fluttered his eyelashes at Dan and Pj. “Oh PJ, thank you, you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

Dan couldn’t help but laugh, nearly bent in half.

“Shut up,” PJ said before stomping out the door. It took Dan and Chris a few minutes to recover from laughing, Dan wiping literal tears from his eyes, but they eventually met PJ (who was tapping out something on his cellphone) down in the lobby. 

The walk to Asda was a little more subdued than normal, PJ huffing and refusing to talk to Chris or Dan. Chris gave up after a few minutes and turned to Dan, excitedly talking about anything that passed through his head, mostly recounting what happened to some of the other lads on Saturday night. While Phil had proven to be a gossip, just like Dan thought the first day at the rink, Chris was just as bad. 

“And Jason, you know Jason, tall, American. We found him in the middle of the dance floor dancing without a shirt,” Chris said, laughing. “He actually had some moves. He was so wasted though we let him have a kip on the couch.”

“Hmmm,” Dan hummed in agreement as he mentally tried to remember everything he had learned about wine last night. “What about Jack?”

“Jack stayed until the bar closed, unlike some people,” Chris said with a side eye at Dan. “Why did you leave so early?”

“Oh, I just wasn’t feeling it,” Dan said, feeling his face heat up as he remembered Phil crooning that Muse cover to him. Well, he had been making sounds with his mouth, at least, but Dan hesitated to call him a crooner since Phil hadn’t hit a single note correctly. “I just wanted to go home.”

“We do appreciate that you two paid this time,” Chris said and Dan stopped walking. 

“Did I not pay at all in London?”

“Nope,” Chris replied with a pop. “Hard to pay when you got kicked out.” 

“I got kicked out!?” This was more information about that night than Dan had previously known (or ever wanted to know) and he felt his face getting redder by the second. He usually just liked to pretend that night never happened because he didn't remember anything about it anyway. He was thankful that Chris, PJ, and Phil seemed to respect that and didn’t bring up details besides the occasional ribbing.

“Yeah, you and Phil both did,” Chris went on to say something else but PJ nudged him in the side, hard if the yelp Chris let out was anything to go by. “Wotchit!”

“Look at him Chris, you’re embarrassing him. Stop,” PJ said, his tone more serious than Dan had ever heard it. 

“Okay, okay, all apologies,” Chris said, holding up his hands in defeat. “God, you need to eat more, your elbows are so bony!”

Dan let out a sigh of relief that hid his internal freak out. Phil  _ and _ him were kicked out? Was it together? Was it separately? What had happened? Maybe he could ask Phil about it another day when he wasn’t going to have dinner with bronze medaled Olympians. Yeah, definitely a different day, Dan thought as they arrived at Asda.

They put in their pence pieces to release their trolley from the lineup and rolled into the store. PJ took off after they agreed on a time to meet up at aisle five. Chris was turning to leave when Dan remembered what PJ said this morning.

“Wait, Chris,” Dan said, reaching out and grabbing the sleeve of Chris's shirt. He let go immediately when Chris turned to face him, bracing himself slightly, expecting a punch for touching another guy so casually in public. But Chris didn’t look angry, just confused. 

“Ah, PJ told me you drink wine? And I need to buy a bottle and I literally don’t know what I’m doing,” Dan explained as his hands gripped and released the trolley. “Could you help me?”

“Sure,” Chris said easily. There wasn’t any teasing like PJ had done. “Wanna do that first?”

“Yes please,” Dan said, hearing the sheer relief come out in his voice. He could budget around a bottle of wine, surely. He’d just eat a little less this week, which wasn’t a bad thing; he had gained a bit of weight and less snacks were probably a good idea. 

Chris led Dan to the alcohol aisles. Sure, when he was working at Asda back home, he had picked up the occasional bottle of wine or case of beer to fulfill a delivery, but he had never taken a good look at what they offered. Now, looking down the aisles, it felt like Asda offered  _ everything _ . Maybe there was even an elixir of youth hidden down there. As Chris walked assuredly down one aisle, Dan was taken aback again by just how many bottles there were. Some were dark while others were transparent. Chris stopped in front of a line of dark bottles with a yellow kangaroo on the front. 

“Here you go. Best wine in the aisle,” Chris said, pointing at the bottles. Dan checked the price and noticed that it was lower than what his mom recommended he spend on a bottle. 

“Is there anything more...expensive?” Dan asked, not wanting to insult Chris’s taste. He looked to either side of the brand and noticed they were about the same price. 

Chris narrowed his eyes slightly, looking between Dan and the bottles of Yellowtail. “Mate, I’m telling you, this is the best wine in Asda. Any bird will love it.”

“Well it’s not just for any bird,” Dan said, looking at a couple other bottles around him. He picked up one that said Bordeux on it and looked back at the price. 35 pounds. Not bad. He turned back to Chris and held out the bottle to him. “Do you think Mrs. Kathryn will like it?”

“Why does it matter what Kath thinks?” Chris asked. 

“Because it’s for her,” Dan said picking up another bottle 

“But she’s married,” Chris said, looking more confused. 

“Why does that matter?”

“Because you… you only buy wine for a bird you wanna. You know,” Chris said, pausing to make a few crude thrusting motions with his hips, causing Dan to drop the bottle in his left hand. It hit the floor shattering and splashing partway up Dan’s pant leg as he let out a garbled sound.

“Not like, no, oh my gOD,” Dan said, wondering where he went so wrong in his explanation. “LITERALLY IT’S JUST FOR DINNER.”

“BUT SHE’S MARRIED,” Chris shouted back and Dan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“It’s for dinner with all the Lesters. They invited me to Sunday roast, remember? Literally multiple people, INCLUDING HER HUSBAND will be there. I think,” Dan explained.

Chris’s mouth dropped open into an o of understanding. “Oh...well, you should still get the Yellowtail. It has commercials and shit, so it has to be good. “

Dan breathed out his nose and calmly stepped out of the puddle of wine pooling at his feet. “My mum told me to spend at least 30 pounds.”

“Buy two bottles,” Chris said. Dan looked over the selection and noticed none of them were a shiraz or a bordeaux. He shook his head. 

“Thanks, Chris, but I think I’ll find something else,” Dan said, shooting his an apologetic smile. “Thank you though.”

“Your loss,” Chris said with a shrug. “Do you need me still?” 

“No, I’ll wait for someone to come round. Go shopping; PJ will throw a fit if we’re late,” Dan replied, looking over his shoulder to see if a salesperson was coming.

“Never get in the middle of a man in love,” Chris agreed, nodding his head. “Good luck finding wine.”

“You too,” Dan said before blinking, watching Chris’s face contort in confusion before walking off. That… wasn’t the right answer. Reasons why Dan’s a fail, he thought as he stood in the puddle of wine. About a minute later a worker came by and started to clean up the wine puddle that had finally stopped spreading. Dan offered to pay for the bottle but the employee, who had an anarchy symbol poking out the collar of her shirt collar, shrugged and told him not to worry about it. 

“Do you uh,” Dan started, looking around embarrassed. “Do you know about wine?”

“Yeah, a bit. Gotta drink to deal with this job,” the girl (Chloe, her name tag read) said. 

“I know that feeling. I used to work the five am shift,” Dan explained with a smile. “Not here, at this store, but in Wokingham.” 

”Oh, older than I thought then,” the girl muttered under her breath, looking around and grabbing a few bottles. “Do you know what you’re looking for?”

“Something red? I think online it said a Shiraz,” Dan replied feeling self conscious. Chloe nodded and led him further down the aisle after placing a wet floor sign out. She looked over the bottles and grabbed one seemingly at random. 

“Here. My girlfriend drinks this and she’s a real wine snob,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Love her to death but she won’t shut up about the bouquet, whatever the fuck that means.”

Dan blinked. “How much is it?”

“Forty-five pounds,” she replied looking at the shelf before turning to look back at Dan like he was an idiot for not reading the sign himself. He smiled sheepishly and thanked her a few times.

“Yeah, yeah, I just hope your fake is good,” she said with a wink before going back to mopping the floor where Dan spilled the wine. Dan flushed and grabbed his cart, hurriedly going through the rest of his shopping before PJ became irate. He made sure to grab some of the bottled apple juice PJ bought to replace the ones he drank yesterday and went to meet up in front of checkout lane five where PJ was waiting, looking over at the line and then away. Dan looked over and saw Sophie staring at them before she looked back at the customer standing in front of her. 

“Have you seen Chris?” PJ asked, looking back over at Sophie. 

“Not since he tried to help me find a wine,” Dan said with a shrug. “Give him a few minutes.”

PJ nodded and Dan watched as PJ and Sophie kept stealing glances in each other’s directions and then looking away suddenly. This was almost worse than before, Dan realized with a small amount of horror. He went to reach in his pocket to text Phil about the new developments in The Sophie and PJ Debacle and paused. 

What if Charlie was still there? Dan hadn’t thought about it yesterday because he had been so focused on getting Phil’s address so he wouldn’t disappoint Mrs. Kathryn that he hadn’t thought about Charlie being there, probably reading the texts over Phil’s shoulder. He was probably still there, trying to absorb as much of Phil’s time as he could.

Well, it may have been Sunday (a time for family and all that rot) and that was Phil’s boyfriend, but Dan was hoping that Charlie would be gone by the time he got there. Dan felt his eyebrows furrow. Did that make him a bad friend? Probably, he thought with a sigh. 

He was brought out of his thoughts by a trolley bumping against his back unexpectedly. He yelped and whipped around, turning to see who was driving a trolley so badly it hit another person, scowling when he realized it was Chris. 

“Asshole,” Dan whispered, shoving at the trolley, satisfied when the handle pushed against Chris’s stomach. 

“Takes one to know one, Mr. Posh,” Chris said, turning to PJ. “This one turned his nose up at Yellowtail.” 

“Ah,” PJ responded, clearly distracted before whipping his head back to face Chris. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. I tried to get Dan a bargain,” Chris said, wiping under his eyes like he was flicking away a tear. “And he only got one expensive bottle for Mrs. Kath.”

“She’ll probably like it,” Dan said, feeling defensive over his bottle of wine. “A girl helped me pick it out.”

Dan ignored Chris muttering under his breath, getting in line behind PJ at aisle number five. Dan watched as PJ began to unload his groceries onto the conveyor belt in front of Sophie. He rubbed the back of his neck and held up a bunch of bananas. 

Oh no, Dan thought, his shoulders tensing as he waited for PJ’s weekly bad pun. 

“This. Uh. This may sound bananas but I find you  _ appealing _ ,” PJ said, staring at Sophie, who threw her head back and laughed. It didn’t sound like she was laughing at PJ, at least not maliciously, so Dan felt his shoulders relax. 

Sophie used both of her hands to tuck hair back from her face and looked over the conveyor belt before picking up an orange. “ _ Orange _ you glad it’s mutual?”

Dan felt his jaw drop alongside PJ’s. He wasn’t expecting that. Looking at Chris, it was confirmed the three of them weren’t expecting Sophie to actually  _ answer  _ PJ’s bad pun. He pulled out his phone as PJ nervously laughed and started to make small talk with Sophie, who continually used both hands to push her hair back, almost like she didn’t want anything to block her eyesight from PJ. 

**[:Dan]:** sophie answered his pun today

**[:Dan]:** i think he came in his pants

**[Phil : ) ]** : oh my god war did I miss

**[:Dan]:** sO mUCh

**[:Dan]:** I’ll tell u 2nite?

Dan paused in his texting to load up the conveyor belt, trying to be discreet so he wouldn’t interrupt PJ and Sophie’s conversation (which seemed to be about robots? How did they get to robots?). He pulled out his phone again, feeling himself smile at the two messages waiting for him. He opened them quickly. 

**[Phil : ) ]** : u better!! C u at 6??? 

**[Phil : ) ]** : i cleaned my room 4 u! 

Dan felt his stomach turn at that admission from Phil. Well, not felt it turn as much as felt like twenty thousand butterflies fought for space in his stomach. Because Phil didn’t clean his room for Charlie; he cleaned it for  _ Dan _ . He stared at the text for another long moment before turning to Sophie with an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, um, how much do I owe you?” 

-

Dan looked up at the number of the house in front of him on the outskirts of Sheffield. While Dan, PJ, and Chris lived closer to the center of the city and the ice rink, the Lester’s had opted to live out by one of the last bus stops. 

No wonder they offered a ride, Dan thought as he triple checked the address and knocked on the door. On the way over, Dan had decided that the doorbell would be too aggressive, so he went with a good old fashioned knock on the door. He hopped nervously from foot to foot, making sure not to scuff up his one pair of ‘nice’ shoes Lena insisted he wear when he called her in a panic around four about what to wear to Olympian medalists Kathryn and Nigel Lester’s house. He was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans (‘because it’s still Sunday roast and you’re eating in a home’) and a nice, dark green long sleeved shirt. He was praying to the void he wasn’t overdressed as the door knob turned and Phil opened the door. 

“Hey,” Phil said, beaming. Dan raised an eyebrow. Had Phil been waiting by the door for him? Because that was too fast for Phil to get up and use crutches to get to the door. Dan felt his stomach go aflutter again like earlier, but more intense, as he met Phil’s kaleidoscope eyes. 

“Hey,” Dan said nervously. He looked Phil over and sighed in relief. Besides Phil’s joggers, Phil was also wearing a nice shirt, not one of his usual band or graphic tee shirts. 

Bless Lena and her ability to navigate adult life, Dan thought as Phil eyed Dan up and down. His eyes landed on the bottle in Dan’s hand and raised an eyebrow. “Afraid we wouldn’t get you pissed?”

“No, um, my mum thought I should bring something for you. As a thank you. I did too. I wanted to bring something as a thank you, but my mum suggested wine and,” Dan trailed off with a shrug, wishing he was able to shut up. Phil must think he’s a nutter. 

“Oh, mum’s gonna love you,” Phil said fondly as he turned and used his crutches to move back to let Dan actually into the house. “Come on in, kick your shoes off.” 

Dan slowly set the wine bottle on the floor before bending down to untie his shoes. He took them off, flushing in embarrassment when he realized his socks didn’t match; one was black while the other was red. He nearly slid his shoes back on but figured that would be strange. He looked up when he saw the rubber tip of Phil’s crutch almost touch his red sock. 

“You’re not wearing matching socks either?” Phil asked, looking absolutely gleeful. “Look at mine!”

Dan looked over and noticed Phil’s one sock, since the boot was covering his cast. He raised an eyebrow and looked up at Phil. 

“I don’t own any black socks to match the boot,” Phil explained. “So I never wear matching socks.”

“You spork,” Dan said as he stood up. “That’s not how that works.”

“To be fair, I didn’t wear matching socks before the boot either,” Phil said as he led Dan deeper into the house. 

“Why?” Dan asked, chucking quietly as he looked around. He never admit it, but from what little he had seen at Phil's house it reminded him vaguely of the house from The Shining, with its red and white wall papering and the occasional black and white pictures of the family hung on the walls. There was also what appeared to be a death cathedral as he looked up the stairway and was met with darkness except for a mirror placed just able to reflect his pale face back at him while candles flanked either side like a sacrificial altar.

Fucking creepy, Dan thought with a shiver. Phil led him into the kitchen. 

“Shoo, you’ll knock something over again, Phil,” said Mrs. Kathryn, who was wearing an apron over a homey sweater and jeans. Phil turned to Dan and rolled his eyes dramatically, causing Dan to bite his lower lip to stifle a giggle. 

“I was only trying to help,” Phil said, his tone slightly whiny. Dan tried not to find it cute, biting down on his lip harder. 

“Yes, and now I don’t have a gravy boat,” Mrs. Kathryn said dryly, finally turning to face them. “Oh Daniel! You were so quiet! Hello!”

“Hello, Mrs. Kathryn,” Dan said, presenting the bottle of wine to her. “For you, from my family to say thank you for feeding me.”

“By the end of tonight you’re going to be calling me just Kathryn, I swear,” Mrs. Kathryn said as she took the bottle, making appreciative noises. “And we’re perfectly happy to feed you. Any friend of Phil’s is welcome at our table any time. Now both of you shoo, dinner will be ready in a little while.”

“Thanks, mum,” Phil said, standing close to Mrs. Kathryn, who pressed a swift kiss to the side of his head. Phil groaned and complained loudly but Dan could see the fond smile he wasn’t even trying to hide. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Kathryn,” Dan said as he followed Phil out the kitchen, hiding a smile as he heard her sigh. He followed Phil out of the kitchen and down the hallway. 

They didn’t get very far before Mrs. Kathryn called from the kitchen “Keep your door open Phil!”

“Okay!” Phil called back before turning and rolling his eyes at Dan. “Now you see why I had moved out.” 

“Just leave your door open, Philly,” Dan said, snickering. 

“Shut up,” Phil grumbled before stopping in front of a door and taking a second to open the door. Dan followed Phil in and blinked. 

The first thought Dan had was relief that Charlie wasn’t hiding in the bedroom. It was so clean, was the second thought that Dan had. The bed was somewhat made with a blue, purple, and green checkered duvet that Dan recognized from IKEA. The television was paused on a video game that Dan recognized as Final Fantasy Seven. The rest of the furniture was a light color and the walls were decorated with a variety of posters. It looked so. So homey. It reminded Dan briefly of his bedroom back when his parents were still married. Just a lot fewer MCR posters, Dan noticed as he walked around the room. He stopped in front of a gorgeous poster of Howl’s Moving Castle.

"Wow,” Dan whispered, reaching out to touch it before pulling his hand back when he noticed Phil watching him. “Sorry, I just. It’s beautiful.”

“Right?” Phil said as he hopped over to stand next to Dan in front of it. “I entered a contest like fifty times to try and win it.”

Dan let out a low whistle as he stared at it again and let out a sigh. He looked back at the rest of the room and turned back to Phil. “It’s not normally this clean is it? My room’s a mess right now and you’re giving me a complex.”

“I may have stretched the truth when I said I cleaned,” Phil admitted, after biting his lower lip. “I may have had Charlie push a lot of stuff into my wardrobe before he left this morning.” 

Ah, that explained it.

“Here, sit down. I’m in the middle of a Final Fantasy VII play through and I know you mentioned it was your favorite,” Phil said as he sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. Dan sat on the bed, scooting back until his back hit the wall. Phil scooted back too, until they were shoulder to shoulder. Dan felt his stomach butterflies act up again as Phil hit resume on the game. 

They were touching. Dan could feel every time that Phil’s shoulder shifted as he hit the buttons on the PlayStation controller. Even with the door open, Dan felt… safe, being allowed to touch Phil. If Phil hated it, he would have moved away, right? 

When Phil died during a battle with one of Sepheroth’s taunting clones, he handed the controller to Dan. 

“Here, your turn,” Phil said, a slight frown tugging at his features. 

“Getting me to do your dirty work?” Dan asked teasingly as he skipped over the prefight dialogue. It had been a while since he had played so his turn ended up being rather short. 

“But, but I hit X,” Dan said with a pout as he handed the controller back to Phil. 

“Suuuure you did,” Phil said as he skipped the jump scenes and tried again to beat the taunting clone. Dan watched as Phil huffed and passed the controller back to Dan who crowed triumphantly about five minutes later when he managed to beat the clone.

“You cheated,” Phil declared, looking at the screen.

“No, I just have talent,” Dan said as he ran around the next scene. They played the game for a while, getting more comfortable on the bed until they were pressed together from shoulder to thigh. They also passed a lot of trash talk on the other’s gaming ability around, especially Phil, who managed to die nearly five times in five minutes and kept demanding redos.

“Dinner, boys,” a gruff, older voice said from the doorway, causing Dan to freeze in play and die on screen. He tried to scoot away from Phil as discreetly as he could but they had created a divot in the bed that made it impossible to move.

“Oh dad,” Phil said, “This is Dan Howell.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Dan said, hastily climbing off the bed and holding out his hand to bronze medal Olympian Nigel Lester. Nigel took his hand and shook it, giving a wry smile. 

“You’re just as polite as Kath said you were, unlike that Charles fellow who just stayed with us. Left a huge mess all over the loo dyeing Phil’s hair,” he grumbled under his breath. 

Phil dyed his hair, Dan thought, turning back and looking at Phil’s hair more critically. He couldn’t really tell the difference. Must have caught it early then.

“Da, you know he prefers Charlie,” Phil said from the bed, where he was scooting forward to grab for his crutches. Nigel let out a series of grunts and looked back at Dan. 

“Either way, pleased to meet you. Supper will be ready after you wash up. Don’t destroy the rest of the counter,” Nigel said before walking off down the hall. Phil stood up slowly and let out a sigh before turning a small smile to Dan.

“Here, let me show you where the washroom is,” Phil said. Dan stepped out of the way to let Phil get by and followed him to the washroom. He let Phil go first and when he took his turn (and he would never admit this to Phil), he searched the countertop for traces of black dye. He found a couple small spots, but it looked like a good majority had been managed to be scrubbed off. 

He followed Phil out to a dining room, where Martyn, Cornelia, Nigel, and Mr- Kathryn (just Kathryn) were sitting. In the middle of the table was a fragrant roast sitting on a tray with bowls surrounding it with various sides inside. Roast potatoes and other vegetables, gravy, Yorkshire pudding, butter, and jesus, was that mint sauce? Dan could feel himself drooling already and he hadn’t even sat down. He took the seat next to Phil, which was across from Cornelia, who gave him a cheerful wave. 

“Hey, Dan,” Cornelia said before jumping back into a conversation with Nigel about some sort of a power tool as he started cutting up the roast into slices. Dan felt his eyebrows raise. What exactly was Cornelia going to do with a cordless hammer drill?

“I have one you can borrow,” Phil cut into Cornelia and Nigel’s conversation. Cornelia beamed at Phil and thanked him. Nigel rolled his eyes fondly. 

“You might as well keep the cordless hammer drill. You’ll use it again before Phil even opens the case,” Nigel said. 

“What are you building?“ Dan asked Cornelia, trying to draw the attention away from Phil. 

“Oh, I need to hang some shelves at our new flat,” Cornelia said, smiling at Martyn next to her. “We need storage for some of our trophies.”

Was everyone in this family fucking accomplished, Dan thought to himself. Surely one of them had to have a flaw besides teasing Phil. Dan was secretly hoping Phil had an extra toe of something on his broken foot. 

“Wow, a new flat, eh?” Dan said with a grin, causing Cornelia to launch into poetics about their new apartment in downtown Sheffield near the “bohemian” district. 

“I’d love our neighbors a little more if they didn’t blast Neutral Milk Hotel at 3 am, but not everything can be perfect, right?” Cornelia said with a laugh, before drawing Dan (and the rest of the family) into a conversation (more like a softer debate) about what music was popular in skating. This led into a more spirited and louder debate about whether they should allow music with lyrics into figure skating. 

“Absolutely not,” Nigel declared, shaking a piece of meat menacingly at Martyn. “They started with classical music because it didn’t distract the audience from the artistry that was being performed.”

“But things change,” Martyn and Phil exclaimed simultaneously, making it seem to Dan that this was a fight that was long bashed out in this household in particular. They leaned over the table and exchanged high fives. 

“The audience changes, the climate, societal norms,” Phil started to explain before his dad huffed and rolled his eyes before smiling. 

“I know, I know, but let an old man cling to his ways,” Nigel said with a laugh. 

“Old man? What are you calling me since I’m five years older?” Kathryn asked, her hands coming to rest on her hips. 

“You haven’t aged in twenty-five years,” Nigel said, causing Martyn to gag. 

“Thank you dear, that was the right answer,” Kathryn said, throwing back her head with a laugh. 

Dan smiled throughout the meal, feeling oddly content in a way he hadn’t in a while. Sure, PJ and Chris were great; they were actually amazing roommates and friends. However, nothing really seemed to take the place of a Sunday roast meal even if he hadn’t participated in one in a while. And the Lesters… the Lesters were great. They were inviting and engaging and Dan felt like he was back home at the dinner table with Nan and Popsie and Mum and Adrian and...and Dan wanted to cry. Oh no. He could feel his throat getting dry and his eyes starting to burn. 

“May I be excused for a moment?” Dan asked, slowly getting up from his chair. 

“Of course, dear,” Kathryn said. “Loo is down the hall to your left.” 

“Thank you,” Dan mumbled as he got up and rushed to the loo. As he went into the room he groped the edge of the sink and let out a sharp breath. He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed his Nan’s number. 

“Hello? Daniel?” His nan picked up, sounding confused. “Is everything alright, bear?”

Dan sniffled. “Everything’s fine. I- I just missed you. I missed everyone.”

“Oh bear,” his nan murmured, her voice becoming muffled for a moment and then the background noises disappeared. “Are you still at that dinner?”

“Ye-yeah,” Dan said through another sniffle. “I just. I was sitting there and they were talking and I just. I missed everyone. I- I missed Wokingham and Lena and Ice Palace and-“

“Hey, hey,” his nan said gently and calmly. “Relax Dan. We’re all still here. Anytime. Why don’t we look into a train ticket for you to come down and visit sometime. Would that help?”

“I don’t know,” Dan said honestly. Because while he missed everyone back home, Wokingham did hold horrible memories for him, ones that he didn’t want to revisit. He didn’t want to accidentally run into Adam, even though he was pretty sure he went to a university in Scotland. “But I want to see you guys.”

“Well, I’ll talk to your mom and let’s see if we can’t get you home for a visit. I miss my bear cub,” his nan said. 

“Okay nana,” Dan said quietly. 

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes,” Dan said, ignoring the throb in his heart. Because it had helped a little to hear his grandmother’s voice. “I love you nan. I’ll call tomorrow.” 

“I look forward to it. I love you too,” his nan said before hanging up. 

Dan looked in the mirror and noticed that his eyes were red rimmed. He turned on the top and splashed some cold water on his face, picking out a few pieces of toilet paper to dry his face off and using his pants to dry his hands.

He returned to the table, meeting Phil’s eyes briefly, and spent the rest of the meal a little more subdued. He still talked when spoken to but he wasn’t actively debating anything either, like earlier. When dinner was done, Kathryn excused Phil and Dan back to Phil’s room.

“I don’t want to lose another gravy boat,” she said with a wink to Dan, causing Phil to groan. 

“You drop a gravy boat one time,” he said, rolling his eyes. 

“Plus all the plate casualties over the years? And the glasses massacre of 2007?” 

“Okay, okay, I get the point,” Phil mumbled, looking down and away, his cheeks slightly red. “C’mon Dan.”

Dan followed Phil back to his room and got on the bed without prompting this time. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, that barely fluttered when he felt a weight press against his shoulder. Must be Phil’s shoulder again, Dan thought and the idea didn’t freak him out as much as earlier. He wanted to lean into the warmth actually, tangled up with Phil on his bed and have a comforting cuddle. 

“Sorry about all that,” Phil muttered. 

“Hmm?” Dan asked, cracking his eyes open and turned his head to face Phil. 

“I know they can be a lot,” Phil said quietly. His hand was resting upward on his thigh and Dan wished he could grab it and give it a squeeze, reassure Phil that the evening had been wonderful. But Dan couldn’t do that, he wasn’t Charlie. 

“No. Tonight was great you knob,” Dan said, knocking his shoulder against Phil’s. 

“You came back and your eyes were red,” Phil said.

Dan didn’t answer for a moment, lost in Phil’s eyes. Phil had noticed that? How? They had made eye contact for maybe five seconds when he returned from his mini breakdown. 

“Can I tell what happened? And you won’t tell anyone ever because it’s embarrassing,” Dan said, holding out his pinky finger to Phil, who gave a small smile before he hooked his own pinky around Dan’s. 

“Anything,” Phil said, with a finality that made Dan believe him. 

“I… called my nan in the loo,” Dan said, looking away from Phil’s unblinking, intense stare. “She calmed me down when I was crying... because I missed everyone back home.”

“Oh,” Phil said softly. “I. Can I give you a hug? You sound like you need a hug.”

Dan felt his heart lodge its way into his throat. He nodded, not trusting himself to say yes, sure that it would show everything he had been feeling for the past few days. Phil turned so he was facing Dan more fully and pulled him into a hug. Dan ducked his head down so they fit more comfortably against each other.

Dan could smell Phil’s cologne. Would it be creepy if he inhaled, Dan asked himself before rolling his eyes. Yes, yes it would be super creepy, he thought to himself as the hug continued, Phil’s hand rubbing up and down Dan’s back, until a muffled coughing sound came from the doorway. 

Dan turned and standing in the doorway was Kathryn, holding up a set of car keys. Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, ohshitohshit-

“Sorry to interrupt but I wanted to see if Dan wanted a ride home before it got too late. Or is he um, staying the night?” Kathryn asked, looking visibly uncomfortable with her question. 

Dan wanted to sink into the ground and become a ghost, haunting Phil for this embarrassment. 

“I should probably go,” Dan said, climbing off the bed. As much as he wanted to go back to that long moment where Phil had been holding him, he also couldn’t wait to leave to avoid this awkward situation, even if he was about to jump into an even more awkward one. He just wanted to go home and beat himself with a pillow to forget the last minute of his life. “Night Phil.” 

“Night Dan,” Phil said from the bed, looking slightly flushed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, totally,” Dan said, sending a small smile in Phil’s direction.“I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	19. trill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trill: a musical ornament, consisting of the rapid sounding of two notes in quick succession.

The ride home was awkward. 

It wasn’t the most awkward moment of Dan’s life, that had occurred nearly eight minutes ago when Kathryn had walked in on him and Phil hugging on his bed, but it ranked pretty high up there. Kathryn (or was he going to have to start calling her Mrs. Kathryn again) was silent for the first two minutes of the drive, changing around the radio station before asking him about his studying for his upcoming A-Level exam.

Dan looked down at his hands that were gripping his knees tightly. How did she know about that? 

“Oh, um, it’s going okay. Olly’s been really helping me a lot,” Dan said, pressing his fingers into his knees. “How uh. How did you hear about that?”

“Phil was talking about it at the rink the other day,” Kathryn replied. “I think he was jealous.”

“Well, he can take my re-sit if he wants to,” Dan joked. 

“Hmmm,” Kathryn hummed before going quiet again. Dan squirmed in his seats, keeping his gaze on his fingers clenching and unclenching around his kneecaps. 

“Thank you again for having me over for dinner,” Dan said, grasping for anything to fill the awkward silence. “It was really good. I told PJ and Chris about it and they wanted to try making a roast themselves.”

“Oh, that would be a sight to see,” Kathryn said with a laugh. “I trust them to cook, heavens know they kept Phil alive, he never learned to make much beyond eggs, but I feel like the kitchen wouldn’t survive.” 

Dan laughed, his grip on his kneecaps loosening. “No, probably not.”

“How about you? Can you cook?” Kathryn asked. 

“Not really,” Dan said with a laugh. “Like I’ve learned to cook more since moving out, but most of the time it tastes pretty rubbish.”

“Then you’ll need to come over more,” Kathryn said, causing Dan to turn and face her. “Can’t have you wasting away on us.”

“I, um,” Dan started to say when the car came to a stop with a red light. Oh god, this conversation was going to be prolonged. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Kathryn laughed. “It’s like I told you earlier. Any friend of Phil’s is welcome over at any time.” 

The way she said friend was weird, Dan thought before answering. It reminded Dan of the way his mom would call Rebecca his friend before they officially started dating, like she knew something Dan didn’t. Could Kathryn tell just how much Dan likes Phil? Was this a mom super power? Dan bit his lower lip, feeling the need to distance himself from Phil a little bit, not wanting to cause any trouble. 

“Then I’ll be over as much as Phil wants me to be,” Dan finally replied, looking up at the stoplight and waiting for it to turn green again. 

“I’ll probably be seeing you soon then,” Kathryn said, causing Dan to turn and stare at her. She wore a small smile on her face and her hands were relaxed on the steering wheel.

“Hopefully,” Dan said with a shrug, turning back to face his kneecaps. It was easier than trying to read into Kathryn’s body language, trying to figure out exactly what she meant. 

The rest of the ride was quiet. Occasionally Kathryn would make a comment about something that they drove past, such as a restaurant or a bookstore, but overall the ride was tense. When they finally pulled up in front of Dan’s apartment building, she stopped him from throwing himself out of the car with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Dan, I meant it. Anytime you want to come over you can,” Kathryn said with a squeeze to Dan’s shoulder. “Now off with you, you have an early start tomorrow.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Kathryn,” Dan said, biting his lip when she groaned dramatically. 

“Just when I thought we were making progress,” she said with a laugh. 

“Good night M...Kathryn. Thank you again for dinner,” Dan said with a smile as he got out of the car. 

“Good night, Daniel,” Kathryn said, so warmly that Dan felt it in his chest for a few moments afterwards. 

-

The next few days were quick, if not a little on the monotonous side, until Katie appeared in front of him on a Thursday with a binder. It wasn’t the beat up white one that Katie usually lugged to lessons but instead it was in a new, black binder. Maybe the white one had finally croaked. 

“What’s this? Edits to Firebird?” Dan asked as he opened the binder and started flipping through the pages rapidly, a bit confused when none of the pages looked like the same routine he had been working on for the past couple of weeks. These looked more delicate, less angular. Had he done that bad they were giving him a whole new routine? He knows he had complained a little bit but the routine had been growing on him, especially the challenge it had been giving him. Dan’s mind went through about half a dozen scenarios in the span of two seconds before Katie cut in with a laugh. 

“No, it’s for Unravel,” Katie said, a half-smile curling on her face. “Your short program. Remember? The choreographer dropped it off late last night. Mind you this is a rough draft and they’ll be coming to work with you on it next week.” 

Dan flipped back to the beginning and looked at the front page. There it was in black and white: Unravel. Below it was the name of the composer of the song and the choreographer. He dragged his finger along the words, feeling like his heart was pulled out of his chest. Yeah, this was better than a Firebird edit. This was better than a thousand Firebird edits. Dan felt himself vibrate as he turned the pages slower this time, looking at the diagrams. He felt himself smile and he looked back at Katie. 

“Can we work on this today?” Dan asked eagerly, clutching the binder hard, scared that Katie would rip it from his hands and force him to work on the Firebird piece instead. 

“Well, I didn't bring it out here for you to just gawk at,” Katie said with a teasing smile. Dan had slowly been learning her facial features and he could tell she was just as excited as him (okay, probably a little less excited) about cracking into a new routine. 

Dan handed the binder back to Katie and skated backwards away from her, ready to begin. He felt the excitement radiating off him, could feel the electricity in his fingers. 

“Okay, so raise your right arm above your head, crossing it in front of your face. Now let it float down. Float, Daniel, not sink like an anchor! Let’s try it again,” Katie said. 

Dan nodded and repeated the motion until Katie nodded her head, looking satisfied. “Now repeat that motion with the other arm.” 

They blocked out the first few pages of the program, Dan feeling elated at working through the program; he couldn’t wait to see it when it was finished. From what he could see of the bones, it seemed like this was going to be much more simple than his Firebird piece but maybe there was some hidden complexity later on in the program. He couldn’t wait till next week when the choreographer was here and they could spend the whole week on this piece, a welcome reprieve from the Firebird piece with its constantly switching tempos. Dan probably shouldn’t have a favorite program (especially when all he knew of one was less than ten pages of work) but he felt connected to this in a way he wasn’t to the Firebird piece, probably because he chose the music to this piece. 

“Daniel, are you listening?” Katie cut in, looking exasperated. 

“Sorry, I got lost in thought,” Dan replied honestly.

“Well, you better not do that next week. Christian is… intense,” Katie said after a pause, making Dan raise an eyebrow. 

How intense could this guy be to make Katie give pause, Dan wondered. Out loud, he replied with a “I’ll do my best.” 

Katie let out a sigh and ran her fingers through the top of her hair. “I know you’re really excited but I need you to focus, especially next week. But I was asking, have you considered what you’re going to wear for your costumes?”

“Well for Firebird I was thinking something red?” 

“Like… entirely red?” Katie asked, her rapidly blinking eyes betraying her horror. 

Yes. 

“No?” Dan said instead, hoping to prevent Katie from a stroke. He watched as her eyes slowed down to a normal blinking speed. Crisis averted. 

“Well maybe check out the shop? See if anything in there catches your fancy,” Katie said as Dan did his best to hold in a laugh. Stuff from the shop would be well out of his price range, especially if it had to be sent off to be altered or if he wanted to order anything special. If anything he was going to have to go home and see if any of his past costumes could be altered to fit him better. 

“I’ll give it a look,” Dan promised. And he would look, he just couldn’t buy. The sponsorship only extended so far and costumes or extra practice sessions weren’t covered. 

Katie shooed him off to the bleachers where Phil sat waiting patiently, his eyes tracking someone on the ice. 

“Hey,” Dan said, sitting down on the bleacher next to Phil and slipping on his skate guards. 

“Hey,” Phil said distractedly as he watched the ice. 

Dan looked at the side of Phil’s profile and wanted nothing more than to wrap Phil up in a hug and comfort him. Return the favor from last night. Instead, he gently swayed to the side and bumped his shoulder into Phil’s to get his attention. Phil turned to stare at him with a slight scowl that didn’t fully reach his eyes. 

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Dan mumbled. 

“I just want coffee and the machine is out,” Phil said with a grumble. “I didn’t get any at home because my mom is worried about my coffee intake.” 

“Well, how much have you been drinking?” Surely it couldn’t be that much. Dan usually saw Phil drink at least a cup, putting him at two cups a day.

“...four or six cups,” Phil admitted, picking at some of the skin on his thumb. 

“Phil, that’s a lot, mate,” Dan said after a moment. 

“Yeah,” Phil said before blinking at Dan. Had he always had such thick eyelashes, Dan thought, missing Phil’s question. 

“Hmm?”

“Do you wanna go to Starbucks? There’s one around the corner,” Phil explained.

Dan thought about it for a second. “Do you reckon that roast counts as a cheat day meal?”

“Probably, but that was Sunday’s cheat day meal,” Phil said and well, with that logic, how could Dan say no. 

“Let me go change into some shoes and I’ll meet you near the back door,” Dan said, getting up and gathering his stuff. 

“Sounds good. I’ll let you have the head start,” Phil said. “They call me Speedy Shoes Lester for a reason.” 

Dan looked at Phil. “Do they now?”

“All over the world,” Phil said in a solemn voice, his eyes twinkling under the low lighting of the semi-lit rink. 

“Yeah,” Dan said, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “I bet they do.” 

Phil laughed, his tongue caught between his teeth. 

Dan rolled his eyes and took off towards the locker room, his heart beating a little fast at the memory of Phil’s face. Was this how it was going to be for all of eternity? Phil doing something as simple as laughing and Dan feeling hopelessly fond? 

Dan quickly changed into his normal shoes, a pair of ratty Nikes that he needed to replace soon. The reasons to go home and visit were just starting to pile up worse than his laundry pile, Dan thought as he tied off his shoes. He left the locker room and went to the back door, where Phil leaned back against the wall, playing on his cell phone. 

Probably texting Charlie, Dan thought before forcing a smile on his face. “Ready to go?”

“Hm, yeah,” Phil said, before turning to Dan with a smile. Dan returned it with a smile that didn’t hurt his face. 

The walk to Starbucks was filled with Phil gasping dramatically at the two dogs (a dog Dan couldn’t recognize and a corgi) that passed them. He had been extremely enamored with the corgi. Phil had turned to Dan and laughed. “Sorry, I really want a dog. A corgi in particular.” 

“Why don’t you have one?”

“The flat doesn’t allow pets,” Phil said simply. 

“Explain Chris and PJ then,” Dan quipped, proud to see Phil stop walking to throw his head back and laugh. Dan let his eyes linger on the line of Phil’s throat, the way his fringe developed a gap from how hard he was laughing. Maybe that’s part of what drew Dan to Phil. They way he broadcasted his emotions so easily. 

“There is no explaining Chris and PJ,” Phil said when he finally calmed down. 

“They are pretty unique,” Dan said, stopping to open the door to Starbucks for Phil. Phil hopped into the crowded coffee shop and Dan had to wait as what seemed like a line of people followed Phil in, stuck holding the door. When he was freed, he returned to Phil’s side, glad no one accused him of being a queue cutter, a deeply irrational fear from primary school. 

“So, why don’t you have one at your parents house. Your mum really seems like a pet person,” Dan asked, continuing their conversation. 

“Oh, she is! We had a house rabbit that was like a dog for a while,” Phil said. 

“Holly,” Dan said off-handedly, feeling himself freeze and look away in embarrassment. He had heard this story in an interview years ago where a younger Phil had won a competition and had been in an interview. 

“Did you win this for anyone special?” 

“Yeah, Holly,” Phil had responded, beaming. His thumb had rubbed against the gold of the medal, smearing the shiny gold. 

“Holly must be one incredible lady to earn that performance,” the interviewer had said, looking like a shark who smelled blood in the water. 

“Holly’s my pet rabbit,” Phil said simply as the interviewer’s face fell. 

“Yeah, Holly! She was great! She would sit on her hind legs for treats and we let her roam around the house,” Phil said, not seeming off-put by Dan’s answer. 

Dan let out a sigh of relief. 

“I really did want a dog though. One time, my grandparents' dog, Bundle, visited and I wrote a twenty page letter called ‘Please Can I Have A Dog’,” Phil continued. “I think I was like five? Six?”

“Twenty pages? Mate, what did you even say in it,” Dan said, honestly astonished. Maybe he had big handwriting as a kid? 

“I wrote the phase ‘please can I have a dog’ in my best handwriting for twenty pages,” Phil said with a laugh. 

“That’s some dedication,” Dan said solemnly. 

“In my defense, Bundle was really cool,” Phil said as they finally approached the counter. “What do you want?”

A caramel macchiato, Dan thought as he read over the board menu, wincing as he saw the calorie count. Louise wouldn’t be happy if he got one of those. “A grande black coffee,” Dan said instead. 

“Any particular roast,” the bored barista asked him.

“Whatever is cheapest,” Dan said, feeling himself flush, determinedly not looking at Phil when he said this line. He only had so much money left from his Nan. 

“That will be 2.01,” the barista said. After Dan pulled out the money and paid, the barista turned on Phil. “And for you sir?”

“A venti caramel macchiato,” Phil responded, paying out his wallet. “And two slices of the coffee cake.” 

“Okay, that’s going to be 9.90,” the barista said. Phil paid and announced he was going to go scout for a place to sit. 

As he waited by the bar, Dan looked longingly at the more sophisticated drinks that went by. Finally their names were called and Dan grabbed their food and drinks. He looked around the Starbucks and saw Phil sitting in two low, comfy chairs. He dutifully pulled the low table closer to Phil and deposited his feast on it. 

Dan sat in the comfy chair next to Phil and took a look around the coffee shop. While most of the customers seemed to be buying their coffee and then leaving, there were a couple people at tables who had laptops open and typing furiously on them. Probably university students, Dan thought with a pang as he remembered the last conversation with his dad. 

He looked up from his plain black coffee when he felt a poke in his side. 

“Tell me about them,” Phil said, pointing at a random person sitting down in a corner. It was a cute girl with long blonde hair in a high ponytail. 

“What?”

“I’ll go first,” Phil said, looking at Dan before looking back at the blonde girl. “Her name is Annabelle. She’s going to school to be an actress, musical theatre, but the tragedy is that she’s tone deaf and nobody will tell her.”

Dan let out a squawk of laughter and nudged his shoulder into Phil’s. The blonde looked up and around, her eyes settling on Dan and Phil. She narrowed her eyes slightly and ducked her head back down to continue typing. 

“Annabelle needs to lighten up,” Dan muttered to Phil who laughed. 

Phil pointed at a random man in line, older and a little more heavy set. “Tell me about him.”

“His name is Rupert. He is tragically clumsy and alone because of his butterfingers,” Dan said in a morose voice. “However Rupert believes Mrs. Butterfingers exists somewhere out there.” 

Phil giggled and pointed at another person and told his story about them. Dan felt his shoulders relax as they did this, feeling the tension of thinking of his conversation with his father slip away. Phil finished his coffee and his coffee cake quickly, before looking at Dan.

“Do you want the other slice? I’m full,” Phil explained with a sheepish grin. Dan felt his stomach rumble. He really shouldn’t, but Phil was going to throw it away otherwise, so Dan lifted it up and bit into it, moaning obscenely as the sugar and cinnamon spilled over his tongue. 

“Fuck, I haven’t had a sweet in a while,” Dan admitted, looking over at Phil who’s face was blotchy. It was getting a little warm in the shop, Dan supposed.

Dan scarfed down the rest of the coffee cake and resisted the urge to suck on his fingers. He could already feel the guilt sliding down the back of his neck and spreading outwards.

“C’mon, we better get back,” Dan said after a moment. 

“Relax,” Phil said, leaning back into the chair. Dan felt the guilt come in another wave, this time for another reason. Phil was probably tired after walking from the rink to Starbucks; he probably needed a break. 

“Okay. But only for five more minute Speedy Shoes,” Dan said, doing his best to sound stern. 

“Only five more minutes,” Phil said with a smile, leaning back into the chair and getting more comfortable. 

(It ended up being an hour.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	20. break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> break: an instrumental or percussion section during a song derived from or related to stop time- being a "break" from the main parts of the song or piece

Dan’s left leg bounced up and down as he waited on the bleacher for Christian, the choreographer, to arrive at the rink. Dan had barely slept the night before, excited to experience the images from his binder and feel the flow of his Unravel piece come to life in a way that the papers couldn’t capture. It was going to make more sense once it was set to the music, Dan said to himself, as he flipped his phone over and checked the time for what was easily the fifth time in two minutes. 7:30 am. Christian was thirty minutes late, which wasn’t that bad, Dan tried to reassure himself. He probably ran into traffic; he was still going to show up.

Dan waited another minute before getting up and starting to pace in front of the bleachers. He made a conscious effort not to push his hair off his forehead and potentially mess up his hair. He had spent a long time straightening it last night and had even ran it through the straightener again this morning, desperate to look his best. 

“…not like it matters,” Dan started to mumble to himself as he paced back and forth. He felt his hands become fists as he walked, slowly becoming more annoyed with every second he waited. “Not gonna show up. And if he did I would-“

“Dan!”

Dan looked up just before he ran into Phil and a short, but ripped, blond. He felt himself smile as he looked at Phil. “Hey!”

“Sorry if you were waiting long,” Phil apologized, looking between Dan and the blond. “We met in the lobby and Christian started telling me about your program.”

Oh, so this was Christian, Dan thought as he gave him another once over. He was dressed in gray yoga pants that clung to his thigh muscles in a way Dan almost couldn’t take his eyes from. He wore a warm looking white sweater that was cut at an asymmetrical angle at the bottom, and Dan was willing to bet it was actual cashmere. He had on a pair of white skates that looked brand new compared to Dan’s now gray skates, which bordered on black in some areas.

He stuck out a hand towards Christian. “Hello, I’m Dan Howell.”

“I figured,” Christian said, giving Dan the most perfunctory, shortest handshake of his life. At least he took it at all, Dan thought as he withdrew his hand.

It was a start.

“Phil’s told me about you,” Christian continued, “So I’m expecting a lot from you.”

Dan looked over at Phil, who wouldn’t meet Dan’s eyes. What had Phil said? Had he complimented Dan to Christian? Had he said something flattering even though he had watched Dan stumble throughout the past two months of skating? Dan swallowed around the affectionate lump in his throat and looked away from Phil and back to Christian, not liking the way that Christian’s eyes narrowed at him. Had he been too obvious in his stare at Phil? Was this guy a homophobe? Dan clenched his hand into a fist at his side and forced a smile on his face as he stared at Christian.

“I’m excited to be working with you,” Dan said. “I didn’t realize at first, but you also did the choreography for my Firebird piece that I’m doing and-“

“Phil’s Firebird piece,” Christian corrected. 

“Phil’s Firebird piece,” Dan amended, feeling his cheeks hurt from how forced the smile on his face was feeling. God, this guy probably told people it was tomorrow at a sleepover, Dan thought, doing his best not to roll his eyes. 

“It’s a good piece. It’s a shame that Phil never skated it in competition,” Christian said with a sigh. He flung an arm around Phil’s shoulder, nearly knocking him and his crutches off balance. “He would have made it look effortless.”

Had Phil said Dan had been struggling, Dan questioned, looking at Phil who still wouldn’t meet his eyes. He wouldn’t be wrong, Dan had been struggling and had conveyed some of these struggles to Phil over text, but it hurt that Phil might have told someone who was a total stranger (to Dan) about things Dan had said in private.

Dan bit the inside of his cheek and looked back at Christian. “He would have.”

Christian let go of Phil after a friendly looking shake back and forth. He looked back at Dan, giving him an up and down that made Dan stand up straight and suck in his stomach. He didn’t want Christian to see any of his flaws. When he seemed to be done, Christian let out a sigh. “Come on; looks like we have a lot of work to do.”

Dan nodded and went to follow Christian on to the ice before Christian stopped him before he stepped on the rink with a jerk of Dan’s shoulder. “Where are you going?”

Dan blinked. “You said to get started.”

“Have you always just gone on the rink and jumped right into a piece like an untrained animal?”

“…yes?” An untrained animal? Really? 

Christian snorted. “Well, we’re going to spend a few days doing the routine off the ice and then Thursday and Friday, we’ll come to the ice. If you’re ready.”

Dan was going to be ready. He was already ready. “Okay, sounds good.”

Christian bestowed Dan with a small smile. “Good.”

Christian led Dan to one of the work out areas for the rink where the mats were particularly unforgiving if you took a tumble, but Dan didn’t comment. There had to be a method to the madness here. This was one of the best choreographers in all of England after all. He had done the choreography for Phil for the past few years and Phil always placed high in the Olympics.

Christian shut the door to the practice area. “Ready to begin?”

-

Dan walked into his room and immediately collapsed on his bed, face first. Every muscle of his body hurt in the way that turning his body in a new configuration of moves always seemed to bring about. However, oddly enough, his body didn’t seem to hurt as much as it had for Firebird during those first few days. Was this routine too easy or had Phil just been insane as a beginning senior? 

Dan rolled on to his back with a groan and pulled out his phone, ignoring Lena’s text asking about Christian in order to read the one from Phil. By the time Dan had emerged from one of the workout rooms, Phil had been gone.

**[Phil : )]:** _hey sorry abt earlier_

 **[:Dan]:** _?_

 **[Phil : )]:** _with christian_

 **[Phil : )]:** _i shldn’t have tlkd abt u 2 him_

Dan bit his lower lip as he answered Phil.

**[:Dan]:** _its fine_

Phil didn’t answer for a while and Dan shut his eyes as he waited, before shooting them open the second that his phone dinged.

**[Phil : )]:** _how was it?_

 **[Phil : )]:** _was he nice 2 u?_

How did Dan describe the constant jabs and comments, especially without sounding ungrateful for being allowed to work with him in the first place?

**[:Dan]:** _it was great_

 **[:Dan]:** _i learned a lot_

 **[Phil : )]:** _really?? thats great Dan!!_

Yeah, Dan thought as he drifted off to sleep. It was great.

-

“Do it again,” Christian called from across the hot little room they had been working in all morning. The A/C was off in this room because Christian didn’t like being cold.

Dan was dying, however. He had always run warmer than most people, and with the constant movement he was doing, he felt like he was burning up. He needed some water. “Can we take a break?”

“Sure, as soon as you get this part right,” Christian said, looking down at his notes before meeting Dan’s eyes. “Do it again.”

Dan swallowed, hoping his throat would accept the meager offering of his spit for now. He wanted to get out of this small room, get back on the ice, get some space. Now wasn’t the time to pick a fight with the man who wrote his routine. “Yes, sir.”

-

Dan took as long as possible getting to the rink on Wednesday, not wanting to spend anymore time in that small, hot room with Christian than he had to. He stood outside the door until the exact moment the clock hit seven before walking in the door.

“You’re late,” Christian said, looking up from his chair and notes from across the room.

“It’s seven,” Dan said, feeling dangerously defiant. “I’m right on time.”

“Early is on time, on time is to be late,” Christian said with an eye roll. “Hurry up and stretch. We’re going to work through that middle piece you were struggling with yesterday.”

How the fuck did that even make sense, Dan though as he dropped his duffle in the corner before starting his stretching routine. On time is on time, he thought as he glared at the ground. He let out a slow stream of air before he bent himself in half, sighing in relief as his hamstrings stretched out. He closed his eyes in bliss and let himself hang for a second, ignoring a pointed cough from Christian.

He made it through his stretching routine, taking a little longer than usual, just as Christian started mumbling under his breath before barking at Dan to start. 

Dan bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming as the music came on. 

Christian told him that his face didn’t match the emotional draw of the music and had him redo the part until Dan was begging for water.

He spent his lunch punching a punching bag in the gym, imagining it was Christian’s face.

He was grateful though because at the end of the day, around five, as Dan laid on the floor a sweaty, dripping mess in that small, hot room, Christian stood over him with his arms crossed and gave him the best news.

“Be here at six tomorrow. We’re going to start transferring everything to the ice tomorrow.”

-

Dan woke up Thursday excited, bouncing in excitement the whole way to the rink. It caused PJ to push him off the seat of the bus into the aisle.

“Go’way. You’re too hyper,” PJ whined into the window as he got himself adjusted so he was draped across both of the seats.

Chris patted the seat next to him, which Dan crawled into gratefully. “Ignore him. I got up to whizz at three and someone was loudly talking on the phone.”

Dan looked over at PJ and noticed how PJ was curling in on himself, even more than earlier. Dan tried not to laugh, but PJ looked ridiculous trying to curl his lanky body up onto the seat. PJ opened an eye and stared at Dan and Chris for a moment, looking like a curly headed dragon. 

Dan snorted and looked back at Chris, getting sucked into a conversation about what’s been going on in the rink since he had been sequestered away. It mostly involved people getting chewed out by their coaches, but Dan was surprised that Henrik (a German guy who was older than _Phil_ ) had announced he was retiring and moving back to Germany. Dan blinked in shock but he wasn’t totally surprised. Henrik skated with the body of someone trying to hold it together but failing. 

Dan knew that feeling very well. 

After getting to the rink and changing, Dan went to go wait by the ice rink, not sure if he should get on the rink or not. He didn’t want to do anything to draw Christian’s ever present ire to him. At 6:15 he sat on the bleachers in Phil’s normal spot. He was left waiting until about 6:30, his brain constantly mocking Christian’s saying from the other day. He also probably said shit like ‘do as I say, not as I do’, Dan thought bitterly as Christian walked in with Phil in tow, talking animatedly with the other. Dan felt himself relax as he waved at Phil, who gave a cheerful wave back.

“Hey,” Dan said, feeling his throat tighten up as he stared into Phil’s eyes. He hadn’t seen Phil or heard from him in nearly three days and he drank him in like an oasis in the desert. He looked good in his track pants and a red shirt that said Sunnydale High on the front in faded yellow font.

“Hey,” Phil replied, smiling in a way that made Dan feel warm. “How have you been, stranger?”  
  
Dan purposely didn’t look over at Christian, who was waiting by the door to the rink. “I’ve been good. Learning a lot.”

“Really? You haven’t been causing too much trouble?” Phil teased lightheartedly.

“No,” Dan said, suddenly feeling sullen. It must have shown on his face because Phil raised an eyebrow at him and looked back at Christian and placed a hand on Dan’s shoulder. 

“You’ve got this,” Phil said lowly, looking into Dan’s eyes. “I know you do.”

Dan felt like he was on fire, just from the simple touch to his shoulder. 

“Thanks,” he whispered in response before going over to Christian who was waiting by the rink door. 

“Did you warm up?” Christian asked, looking over Dan’s shoulder.

“No, not yet,” Dan answered honestly. 

Christian sighed, dragging his hand over his face. “Okay, go warm up. Ten minutes.”

“Yes sir,” Dan said, stepping on the rink and allowing himself to fly around the rink. He quickly went through his warm ups and returned in front of Christian, eager to get started, knowing Phil’s eyes were on him.

-

It was Friday, his last day with Christian, and he couldn’t wait for today to be over so he could go back to training with Katie. When Christian wasn’t constantly making snide comments about Dan’s abilities, he wasn’t bad (granted that meant he wasn’t saying anything at all). His advice for when Dan was trying to get the moves was good, great even, he just wished it was said a bit… nicer? Encouraging? At least Katie treated him like a human being and not a badly trained poodle, Dan thought as he arrived at the complex. 

Dan looked around for Christian, expecting him to be running late like he had yesterday. Instead he was surprised to see that Katie and Christian were standing together on the ice, talking. 

Dan paused where he was and stared at them. Katie looked up and saw Dan and waved him over with the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face. “Daniel!”

“Hey, Katie,” Dan said cautiously, staring between her and Christian. “Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine. I figured since this was your normal slot I would sit in and see your progress,” Katie explained. Dan looked over her shoulder and noticed Phil wasn’t there. Must be running late. 

“You’re doting on him, Katie,” Christian said with an eyeroll.

Katie responded with her own eyeroll and Dan had never loved her more. 

“Let’s see how far you got with the routine Dan,” Katie said, her tone sounding more encouraging than Christian’s. Dan skated back from them a few feet and started with his hands placed in front of him about groin level.

He looked over their shoulders and noticed Phil _still_ wasn’t there. Maybe he had a doctor’s appointment? Christian hit play on the boombox.

_You’ve got this. I know you do._

Dan exhaled and raised one arm above his head, bringing it down gently. He repeated the motion with the other arm and skated backwards before really getting into the routine. He put his all into what he had performed on the ice so far, about a third of the overall program. 

“Well,” Dan heard Christian say as he skated back up to the pair, “He’s no Phil Lester but he’ll do.”

Dan felt like he was seeing red. His heart was beating loud as an echo in his skull. His hands curled up into fists by his side as he stared at Katie, begging her to say something.

“Christian,” Katie said, her voice full of disbelief. She looked absolutely horrified that he had said that. Or did she believe it too, Dan thought. Was she just ashamed that Christian had had the bollocks to say it outloud. 

Christian shrugged before turning to Dan. “So you need-”

“I need a break,” Dan muttered.

“What? Speak up,” Christian said. 

“I said,” Dan said through gritted teeth, “that I need a break.”

 _You dick_ , went unsaid (just barely) but Christian seemed to pick up on his, his eyebrows turning down in disapproval. “But you just started. You went so much longer yesterday-.”

“Daniel, go on a break. Get some water,” Katie cut in. “We have something to discuss.”

“We do?” Christian said, sounding genuinely confused. 

“Yes,” Katie said, sounding unapologetic before turning to Dan and putting on a forced looking smile. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”

Dan skated away towards the door to the rink. When he turned back, he saw Katie bent in close to Christian saying something. He couldn’t read lips well enough to tell what since she was talking so fast.

When Dan came back from his break, ten minutes later on the dot, Christian was gone and Katie told him he wasn’t coming back with a thin line for a mouth. 

Dan figured he was better not asking.

-

Dan was laying on his bed, staring up on the ceiling when someone knocked on his door. He didn’t want to get up. He was too busy focusing on what Christian had said earlier that day. 

_He’s no Phil Lester._

_But he’ll do._

_He'll do._

He knew he wasn’t as good as Phill, no skater in England was. But that didn’t stop the words from stinging. He felt the words pierce into that tender, well visited place in Dan’s heart that said he wasn’t good enough. The place that said he was never going to be good enough to stand on his own as a skater and he should give up to become something boring like a lawyer. 

“What?” Dan whined despondently when the knocking didn’t stop. PJ opened the door to Dan’s room, clearly vibrating in excitement over something. 

“Mate, you have to come out here,” PJ said, walking towards Dan’s bed. Dan shot a look that must have been particularly dark since PJ stopped moving. “Get out of bed and come here.”

“I don’t want to,” Dan said as he turned over, away from PJ to face his wall.

“Mate, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Dan replied as he buried his face into his pillow. He pulled it away after a moment to respond. “I just… I’m not in the mood. I’ll come look in a little bit, I promise.”

PJ didn’t say anything but he sighed in what was probably disappointment. Well, PJ could get in line for the people he had disappointed, Dan thought bitterly as he breathed in his pillow’s comforting scent. He heard PJ leave the room, without shutting the door.

Dan immediately thought of that song by Panic! At the Disco and he groaned internally. Of course he was sad, but he wasn’t sad enough to be emo scum. Figures. Dan didn’t get up to close the door, deciding it was better to keep his face buried in the pillow and ignore the world outside his twin bed. 

Ignoring the world was ruined moments later when he heard someone walk into his room. He kept his face pressed in the pillow, wondering if he could convince Chris or PJ that he had fallen asleep since saying he didn’t want to move seemed to accomplish little. He should have known it would accomplish little when someone leaned over his bed and shook his shoulder. 

“Dan?”

That wasn’t Chris or PJ. Dan pulled his face out of his pillow and looked over his shoulder at Phil. Phil had a concerned look on his face and it made Dan turn all the way over to face him. 

“Hey,” Dan said, a little wary. “What’s up?”  
  
“Are you okay?”   
  
Dan bit his lower lip and shrugged, the motion feeling awkward on the bed. 

“What happened?” Phil asked. It didn’t feel prying; it just felt concerned, especially with the way Phil was still touching him, grounding him really, with a hand on Dan’s shoulder. Dan bit down on his lip a little harder. “Budge over.”

Dan scooted back so his back was against the wall so Phil could sit down. Dan waited for the inevitable sound of his crutches hitting something and was surprised not to hear them. Dan sat up straight and looked at Phil, noticing for the first time that he was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans instead of his usual track pants. 

“How did you get those on over your cast?”

“Hmm?”

“The skinny jeans. It must have been hard to get them on over your cast.”

“Oh, I got my cast off.”

“You got your cast off!?”

“It’s not a bi-” Phil tried to say but Dan interrupted him

“No, it’s a HUGE deal! We need to celebrate!” Dan said, feeling himself beam at the other. Dan felt his heart beat, but he pulled the other into a hug. “Phil, I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Phil said quietly, directly into Dan’s ear. Dan felt the hairs on his arms stand up on end, electric flowing through his body but Dan pulled himself away from the hug to smile at Phil.

“What do you want to do without that thing on?”  
  
“I… strangely enough, I want to go for a run,” Phil admitted, looking bashful. “But I can’t until I’ve done some PT.”

Dan nodded. “We could go together? When you’re better, if you’d like?” 

“That sounds fun,” Phil said as he made himself more comfortable on the bed, his thigh touching Dan’s knees. Dan felt himself smile, at the contact or the promise of hanging out, he wasn’t sure. 

“So… was it fun at the rink today? What did I miss?” Phil asked, the transition obvious and horrible, ruining the happy moment that they had just shared. 

Dan felt himself move his knees away from Phil’s thigh. “It was… alright.”

“Just alright? How was Christian?”  
  
 _He’s no Phil Lester but he’ll do_.

Dan felt the tension rise the longer he didn’t answer. He swallowed, looking away from Phil. “He was fine.”

It was quiet until Phil spoke. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“For what?”   
  
“Whatever Christian did.”   
  
Dan bit his lip. “It’s fine. It was nothing. I was being too sensitive.”

“Or Christian was being a dick,” Phil said.

Dan looked up at Phil who shrugged. “You’re not the first person this happened to. Christian used to be a right bully before I started winning medals. But mum and dad liked his programs so..” Phil trailed off and shrugged. “Now he’s all buddy buddy and he isn’t a massive pillock to me anymore.”  
  
Great, so Christian was just an elitist, medal hungry ass. That made Dan feel marginally better, strangely enough. It was better than the feelings that had been growing all week of Christian just disliking Dan because he was _Dan_ and not Phil. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Phil asked, looking shocked.

“For whatever Christian did,” Dan said, echoing Phil’s words from earlier. 

“It was years ago,” Phil said with a forced looking smile. “I’m over it.”

Good to know it would take years to get over, Dan thought.

( _Would he even still be skating in years, a nasty little voice asked in the back of his head._ )

Dan sat there for a second before looking back at Phil, who was picking at his thumb. Dan jostled Phil who looked over at Dan.

“Wanna go lose at Mario Kart?” Dan asked with a small smile, the first one that didn’t feel forced all week.

“Now that my ankle is free, I’m going to win, just you see.”

“Dream on Lester, this isn’t the ice.”

Phil shoved at Dan before getting off the bed and walking with an odd, stumbling gait. He must still be used to walking with crutches, Dan thought as he watched him walk all the way to the living room.

Dan thought he never looked as powerful as he did now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay guys, I do have a more serious note to write today. this series is going on hiatus until august 3rd, 2020, when I will resume my weekly posting schedule of once a week on mondays. i'm working on another big project for the prb and I wouldn't want the quality of this story to suffer because I can't dedicate as much time as I would like to it. however, I love all of you and I can't wait to see you guys again in august!
> 
> \--
> 
> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	21. glissando

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the French 'glisser', meaning to slide. An instruction to slide between a group of notes. On the piano, for example, the performer runs a finger down or up the keyboard.

_ Heat.  _

_ All Dan could feel was heat. The air around him felt muggy and he could feel sweat dripping down the small of his back, under the shirt he was wearing. He wasn’t sure what color it was, he couldn’t focus. He felt floaty and he was laughing with someone and- and something. His mouth tasted like tequila and something else. _

_ Skin. He could taste skin under his tongue. Sweaty, salty skin. Or was the salt from tequila? There was a song playing in the background but he couldn’t make out any of the words. Why couldn’t he make out the words? He felt the sweaty skin beneath him give slightly as he bit into it. He felt hands on his hips tighten, felt the puff of a gasp against his warm neck. The song was clearer. It was...Toxic? Why was Britney playing in his dreams? _

_ Fuck. _

_ The word echoed in his head and the scene changed. Him and the shadowy figure with salty skin were no longer surrounded by people and Toxic wasn’t playing anymore. Now they were in a box? Yes, a box, pressed close together, and they were kissing. Dan hadn’t been kissed in so long. He felt his own longing throughout the dream, felt the way his heart clenched as the shadow figure and his lips came together again and again.  _

_ (taste of your lips, i’m on a ride) _

_ Dan felt hard. The heat was still there but it was radiating lower in his body than Dan was expecting. He keened, feeling himself thrust outward, desperate for this shadow to touch him where he needed it most. He tried to voice this but their lips were still connected. He pulled his head back to tell him. The shadow opened his (at least Dan was pretty sure it was a he? Maybe a she? Maybe both? Neither?) eyes as their faces pulled apart and they were a brilliant kaleidoscope of blue, green, and gray.  _

Dan sat up in bed, his heart beating erratically, painfully hard in his boxer briefs. He was gripping at the duvet on his bed. He felt like he was boiling alive under it. He kicked the duvet off and on to the floor before turning and looking at the clock on his nightstand. It was 3:45. Barely enough time to go back to sleep and have it be worthwhile, especially as he stared at his straining boxer-briefs. He’d have to take care of that, he thought as he got out of bed. 

Was it too early to take a shower? Probably, but Dan waddled across the room for his toiletry bag and out of his room towards the bathroom anyway. He wanted to wash the sweat from his dream off of his body. He turned on the shower, staring forlornly down at his prick. It was still hard, but felt like it was slowly softening the longer he stood there. He was still going to have a wank though, Dan thought determinedly as he pulled off his pants and stepped into the shower. He’d feel less pent up afterwards, that was for sure. The water was a little on the warm side but Dan ignored it as he poured some body wash into his hand and reached down to cup himself. He sighed into the feeling before encircling himself in his fist and giving a rough stroke that had him gasping. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanked, he thought suddenly as he continued to stroke himself. He used to be a lot more regular with his wanking, especially when he was dating Rebecca. But lately, he just wasn’t into it. Maybe it was the lack of a muse, he snorted as he stroked himself a few times. He was sure he had wanked in the past week… couple of weeks ... but in between practice, both scheduled and self imposed, and hanging out with PJ, Chris, and Phil, he can’t remember the last time he had allowed himself to do this. 

Phil.

His mind guiltily latched onto the images in his brain of Phil and ran wild with them. Every hug where Dan could smell his aftershave and feel his cool hands press against Dan’s shoulder blades. Every hand brush as they passed a remote back and forth. The way Phil had looked doing PT in the weight room today (yesterday; it was after midnight after all), sweaty and a flush high on his cheeks. Is that what Phil would look like? Would Phil look that flushed and sweaty from getting his prick sucked? Would Phil’s face flush that prettily and breathe heavy as Dan sucked down his prick? Dan has never sucked a dick but he’s pretty sure he would attempt to suck Phil’s. Would he like it? Was that Phil’s heavy breathing or was that the echo of Dan’s breathing in the shower cubicle? Dan grunted as he felt himself come to that image of Phil getting his dick sucked.

So much for not having a muse, Dan thought in the post orgasmic endorphins high. Dan’s heart rate was high and his chest felt scalded under the spray. A hand shot out so he could hunch against the wall to hold himself upright instead of crumpling down to his knees like he wanted to from the intensity. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, watching the water swirl down the drain as aftershocks went through his system. He let out a deep breath and stood up straight, finally releasing his prick. 

At least his prick would smell Alpine Spring fresh for a few days, he thought as he cupped water in his hand and washed the gel off of himself. 

He ducked his head underneath the spray and closed his eyes again as the water ran over his scalp. He tilted his head up and took a spray in the face, feeling like he was a dog getting punished. He kind of deserved it, though, he thought as his mind flashed back to the image of a sweaty and flushed Phil. He sputtered and took a half step back so he wasn’t drowning anymore. He quickly scrubbed his hair and body down after that, trying to ignore the guilty swirling of his gut as the image of Phil he had used to come kept popping up in his head. 

He was a terrible friend, he thought as he turned off the shower spray. Friends didn’t wank to thoughts of sucking their friend’s pricks. 

Dan let himself drip in the shower for a bit before stepping out and toweling off. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, taking in his curling hobbit hair, too smooth chest, and his stomach. He grabbed his stomach and pinched some of the extra skin between his fingers with a grimace. He’s been working out more, he should be losing weight. It didn’t feel like he had lost any weight at all. He let out an angry sigh and aggressively turned off the light as he left the bathroom and went back to his room. He stood in the doorway, letting the light from his amber lamp and his small window keep the room lit for a long moment before turning on the overhead light. He winced as the light came on, the bright white light a stark contrast to the orange light of his amber lamp. He went and sat on the bed, laying back and staring up at the ceiling. He should get up and get dressed, but, he thought as he turned his head and looked at his alarm clock, he still had another hour before he had to “get up”. He knew at least a solid thirty minutes of that could be spent straightening his hair, but he just didn’t want to move. 

He really should have just ignored that hardon and gone back to sleep, Dan thought. However, Dan had to admit that his body did feel a bit more relaxed. He tilted his neck, trying to crack some of the bones there, and heard three of his vertebrae let out satisfying pops. He tilted his head to the other side and got another one to pop. He didn’t remember the last time he was relaxed enough to do that. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a minute before pulling out his phone and going to Twitter. He had to wait for his hair to dry anyway, he justified as he loaded up the blue and white website. He scrolled through the usual celebrity tweets and the occasional tweet from an old schoolmate before he landed on one from Phil’s personal account that was posted only an hour ago. 

**AmazingPhil**

_ House is being extra creepy with the noises tonight :I luckily I am brave _

Dan read over the tweet a few times, feeling his eyebrows furrow in confusion. He remembered that this was the week Phil’s parents had gone on vacation or were doing an exhibition (maybe both? probably both) in Canada, so Phil was all alone this weekend and some of next week. He remembered what it was like when he had first moved into the apartment, getting used to the creaks and settlings of the building. Did Phil still feel that way after moving back home? Phil had mentioned this house wasn’t his childhood home; maybe the creaks in this house weren’t as comforting. Anything could be scary if you didn’t feel comfortable enough, Dan thought as he typed out his response. 

**Danisnotonfire**

_ I want to be there so you don’t have to be brave  _

Dan set his phone down on his chest, jumping when his phone buzzed a moment later. He turned it over and noticed he had gotten a like from Phil, along with the response of a ‘ _ <3 _ ’. Guess he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep either, Dan thought as he opened up the DM thread (consisting of funny tweets and the occasional regular conversation) he had going with Phil and sent him a message. 

**Danisnotonfire:** _u ok?_

It seemed to take no time for Phil to respond. 

**AmazingPhil:** _it’s too spooky here D : I watched a horror film last night and now all the noises are serial killers_

 **Danisnotonfire:** _fyl_

 **AmazingPhil:** _thanks :’c_

 **Danisnotonfire:** _I’d come over but I’d probably attract more serial killers/supernatural activity_

 **AmazingPhil:** _I think it’s worth it… (unless it’s JasonX, he’s a bit intense)_

 **AmazingPhil:** _at least I wouldn’t die alone_

 **Danisnotonfire:** _I don’t wanna die xc_

 **AmazingPhil:** _you could come over and spend the night_

 **AmazingPhil:** _if u wanted to_

 **AmazingPhil:** _parentals wouldn’t mind_

Dan read over the message a few times. Was Phil being serious? Did he actually want Dan to come over? Usually when they hung out, outside of the rink now that Phil was passably mobile, it was at the apartment with PJ and Chris. He thought it over for a few seconds before answering, wanting to make sure. 

**Danisnotonfire:** _r u sure??_

 **AmazingPhil:** _yeah! : D u could come over after practice today!_

 **AmazingPhil:** _we could try making pancakes in the morning_

 **Danisnotonfire:** _if u r sure, that would be fun_

 **AmazingPhil:** _i’m sure!!! pack your bags howell_

 **Danisnotonfire:** _bags? For a night?_

 **AmazingPhil:** _nah, stay the whole weekend_

Dan raised his eyebrows. There was a difference between staying over one night and staying a whole weekend. Was Phil sure he didn’t want to invite Charlie over instead? His parents were going to be gone a whole week, after all. They probably had couples things they wanted to do without Dan there. Dan typed out a quick reply.

**Danisnotonfire:** _r u sure mate? won’t you get sick of me?_

Dan bit his lower lip as he waited for the response to come through. Had that been  _ too  _ self deprecating? It took Phil a minute to reply and in that time Dan was convinced Phil was going to come up with a reason for him not to come over. 

**AmazingPhil:** _no, not at all : ) pls come over. we has cookies._

 **Danisnotonfire:** _what kind of cookies_

 **AmazingPhil:** _Dan catching cookies_

 **Danisnotonfire:** _wtf?_

 **AmazingPhil:** _: D_

Dan turned his phone over onto his stomach and felt himself smile for the first time since he had woken up. It sometimes drove him crazy how easily Phil managed to put him in a good mood. He moved his phone off of his stomach and onto the bed. He got up, retying the towel around his waist, before walking across the hall to straighten his now dry hair. He did it quickly, burning his fingertips a little in his eagerness before coming back into his room and getting dressed. Nothing fancy, just black, insulated workout pants and a (boring) white shirt. He pulled out his backpack and looked at the leaning tower of clothes hanging out of his laundry basket. He had planned to do laundry this weekend, but he couldn’t do that if he was going to be at Phil’s. He picked up his phone off the bed and bit his lower lip before shooting off a message to Phil. 

**Danisnotonfire:** _hey if I bring detergent can I do laundry at your place?_

 **AmazingPhil:** _sure! i need to do laundry 2_

Dan smiled and pulled out his duffel bag as well, shoveling his laundry in there until it was bulging and he could barely zip it closed. He turned to his open wardrobe and pulled out two shirts and a pair of jeans, figuring if he wanted to wear something different, he could do his laundry tonight and have more options for the weekend. He placed those in his backpack and looked eagerly at the clock. He was disappointed when the clock showed that it was only 4:56. His alarm hadn’t even gone off yet and he already wanted to skip practice and go directly to Phil’s house. He sat down on his bed, looking over at the clock every few seconds like that would somehow propel him ten hours into the future. 

_ Calm down, desperate _ , Dan thought as he took a deep, long breath, shutting his eyes. He turned off his alarm before it could start blaring and walked out of the room to go drink his breakfast. He grimaced through his protein shake, leaned against the counter, too amped up to sit down and drink it like a “civilized human” (thanks for the judgement from so far away Nan). He nearly burst through his skin when PJ sleepily crawled into one of the chairs at the table. 

“Morning!” Dan said, his voice too chipper even for his own ears. He watched as PJ turned his head so his cheek was resting on the table, facing Dan. 

“Is it morning? Is time real?”

Dan blinked. What was the right answer? “No?” 

“That’s a relief,” PJ muttered, closing his eyes. Dan watched as PJ seemed to pass out right there on the table before he threw his protein shake bottle away. PJ seemed to flinch at the noise the trash can made but otherwise didn’t move. Dan made a promise to himself that he’d check on PJ in a moment as he went back to his room, grabbing both his bags and setting them by the front door. He looked in the mirror that hung there, something Kathrine had placed when Phil had moved in and Phil had forgotten to take down when he moved out. He was still smiling. 

Today was going to be a great day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back : ) Sorry I took an extra week but god, depression is just a hoe
> 
> \- -
> 
> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	22. friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday is the day of the week between Thursday and Saturday. In countries adopting the "Monday-first" convention it is the fifth day of the week. In countries that adopt the "Sunday-first" convention, it is the sixth and penultimate day of the week. 
> 
> In most Western countries, Friday is the fifth and final day of the working week.

Dan held his pose on the ice, looking out towards the audience of tired moms and Phil. He had been running through the ending of Firebird for most of his lesson since Katie decided he hadn’t worked on it an equal amount to Unravel. He had thought it would be easy, something he could do by memory, but with the competing phrase of ‘Phil’s house’ running through his head, he realized Katie may have had a point in calling him complacent with that program. He kept having sloppy angles, and he hadn’t even attempted one of the triples earlier because he was sure he was going to fail. 

He looked at the area Phil usually sat before looking over at Katie. Just thirty minutes until he was able to leave.

“It would probably work better if you didn’t look so eager to leave. You’re vibrating in excitement,” Katie drawled as she skated over to him, adjusting his posture and arm placement as he stood still. “You need to focus, Dan. I still have you for twenty more minutes.”

Dan nearly groaned but instead he made sure to hold the position that Katie had put him in. “Yes Katie.” 

“Okay, let’s try it from the last third,” Katie said with a clap. “Anything that stands out, we can work on next week, but I need you to _focus_. Feel the music.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dan said, making a mental promise to himself to focus on this last run through. Just this run through, then cool down, and then he could go to Phil’s house. Just twenty more minutes tops. 

He skated to a clear spot near the wall on the half of the rink that he and Katie had commandeered. He turned so his back was facing the plexiglass and listened as the music changed from something heavy and fast paced to something light and airy with the piercing sound of flutes. He drew his arm back over his head and leaned his chest forward, getting into the mood, even if it felt a big begrudging. He closed his eyes for a second, visualizing the next move and propelled himself forward. Liquid and control. Total opposites, but Dan had to nail the feeling that his movements were easy for him while making sure they didn’t look sloppy. 

He went through the more stylistic movements, making sure to focus on the ice and how he was gliding on it. He couldn’t wait for a private session where he had the whole ice and was able to use the momentum of the full rink and no no no Dan, focus on today. He inhaled as he went into his first jump of this part of the program and was pleased when he landed it. He skated a few feet away before standing on only his right foot and spinning with his leg outstretched, doing a camel spin easily. As he started to lose momentum, he put a leg down and pushed himself, using the motion to do another camel spin. 

He went through the rest of the softer part of the program and managed not to jump in shock as the music changed from something soft to something intense. Maybe he should have taken some music A-Levels- No Dan, _focus_. He took a deep breath and leaned into the first jump in the series, a triple before a single and then a double. He felt himself over rotate, letting out a cluck but continued with the series of jumps. He skated across the half of the rink before jumping and landing his next jump. He could feel himself beginning to lose focus but he narrowed his eyes and kept going, spinning faster and faster, jumping off the ice and touching his fingertips to the pick of his blades. His brain was so full of the next move and the next and the next, that it caught him unaware when he stopped, his arms in the air and the last third of his program done. He skated over to the wall of the rink where Katie was watching him. 

“How was that?”

“Probably the best you’ve shown me all day,” Katie replied, bitingly honest as usual. Dan nodded and looked over her shoulder to see Phil hunch over his phone. “But you did do as I ask, so off with you. Please come here with that focus on Monday. We’re going to work through that part again.”

“Yes, Katie,” Dan said, feeling himself vibrate with excitement before skating off towards the door and catching his pick on the edge of the step between the ice and regular flooring. He felt himself windmill his arms catch his balance but he could hear Phil laughing at him. 

Traitor. 

Dan flipped him the bird as he walked over, immediately picking up his water bottle as he reached Phil. He took a large pull of water from the jug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when he was done. 

“Don’t you know that will give you cramps?” Phil asked, as he took a sip of the shitty rink coffee. Or maybe Phil had a key to the office and had made coffee with the coffee maker in there. Would the betrayals ever cease today? 

“Hmmm?” Dan answered eloquently when he realized he had been silent for a beat too long.

“Drinking water that fast makes you cramp,” Phil said.

“Does not,” Dan said before taking another long sip. 

“It does! Look it up!”

“Yeah, maybe with a weak stomach like yours,” Dan said, reaching down and poking at Phil’s side, laughing when Phil’s squirming caused some coffee to spill over and run down Phil’s hand. Dan was impressed that Phil’s stomach still felt solid, like muscle, even though Phil hadn’t been working out since he broke his ankle.

“Arsehole,” Phil cursed before looking guiltily around him, like he was expecting Kathryn to hop out of a hiding place and berate his foul language. Dan felt himself bite down a smile but he also looked around in solidarity; Kathryn probably had sources everywhere.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked, fixing his eyes back on Phil. 

“Yeah, just stung a little,” Phil answered as he looked over his fingers, “but I think I’ll heal up just fine.”

Dan nodded. “Good.”

Good? That was the best he had? Phil was going to change his mind before the weekend even began. Dan bit down on his lower lip. 

“I uh, need to change,” Dan mumbled, gathering up his stuff. 

“Before we leave, do you mind if I work on some rehab with Louise?” Phil asked, blinking while looking up at Dan. 

“No, of course not. Could probably do with stretching out myself,” Dan said, tapping the pick of his skate gently against the ground. “Let me go change into trainers.” 

Phil smiled up at Dan and Dan thought his heart was going to stop. He looked so… so trusting and happy. And Dan betrayed that trust by having a wank about his face earlier. Dan gave a weak smile back before turning to go and change his shoes. 

He met back up with Phil about ten minutes later, getting distracted in the hallway by Olly, who wanted to know if he wanted to join in on a study session next week with some friends. When he saw Phil, he was sitting in a chair with his shoe off, pointing his toes outwards and then curling his foot upwards. Louise was sitting on the other side of him, taking notes as Phil stretched. Dan walked over to a spot near where they were sitting and sat down on the floor, spreading his own legs out and stretching. 

“What are you working on today?” Dan asked as he leaned forward, stretching an arm out to grab at his own foot and held the movement, relishing in the way his calf muscles stretched out. 

“Just range of motion. Still hurts if I turn it the wrong way,” Phil said with a wince as he moved his foot from side to side.

“It would hurt less if you would do these exercises at home too,” Louise drawled. “You need to be doing these any time you can, but ideally five to eight times a day.”

Dan whistled. “Phil, how many times are you doing it?”

Phil shot Dan a look before looking back down at his foot. “Like Three? Four?”

“Well, this weekend you’ll have to do it,” Dan said as he switched sides with his stretching. “I’ll force you.”  
  
“How?”

“I have my ways, Lester,” Dan said, ignoring the way Louise mumbled something under her breath. “I have my ways.”

“I’m so scared of your ways,” Phil monotonously intoned before his face scrunched up in pain. “Louise, can I stop now?”  
  
“No, but you can take it a little easier. Don’t force it,” she said, patting Phil’s shoulder sympathetically. “Besides, up next is stretching the surrounding muscles! That’s going to hurt worse!”

Phil groaned, probably at Louise’s cheerfully sadistic statement. Dan sat up straight before bending forward at his waist, his muscles contracting as he tried his hardest not to laugh. Sure he felt bad that Phil was in pain, he did, but he also couldn’t stop a snort from escaping at Louise’s tone and Phil’s defeated looking face.

“Maybe you should have done your stretches more, Phil,” Dan said.

“Maybe you should have done your stretches more, Phil,” Phil repeated, his voice high pitched and mocking until Louise swatted at his shoulder (hopefully) affectionately. Dan wouldn’t have minded if she had been trying to defend him either.

“He has a point you know. Now come on, time to do some wall exercises,” Louise said as Phil slowly stood up and wet to the closest wall, pressing the palms of his hands against the wall and extended his leg behind him, stretching it out fully. Dan did his best not to stare but the angle of his leg made his ass stick out a bit. Dan looked away, feeling the back of his neck heating up in embarrassment as Louise caught him staring. 

“So what are your plans for the weekend, lads?” Louise asked as she pressed a hand to Phil’s shoulder until Dan watched Phil squat lower. 

“Oh, Dan’s coming over and we’re going to take over the world,” Phil said with a strained voice. “Chaos, eternal glory. The usual.”  
  
“So, sit around and play video games then?”  
  
“Pretty much,” Phil said with a laugh. “The glory will live on in my Playstation at least.”  
  
“My glory that is,” Dan cut in. “Phil’s shite at anything that isn’t Final Fantasy VII.”  
  
“Hey!”  
  
“Oh, and eight,” Dan said, ignoring Phil’s protests, leaning backwards and tilting his head so he was staring up at the ceiling. “What are you doing this weekend, Louise?”  
  
“Hmmm, I was thinking of trying this little bistro with the bloke I’m seeing,” Louise said. “He’s kind of a food snob.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah. Turned his nose up at a chain restaurant because it wasn’t artisanal. Personally, I’m not picky either way,” Louise said with a shrug. “Okay, switch legs Phil.”  
  
“Oh thank god,” Phil said dramatically.

“What about you two? Have any birds you’re interested in? Someone to take out this weekend maybe after the video games?”  
  
Dan tipped his head forward and looked at Phil’s back, noticing how his shoulders bunched up to rest by his ears. Dan shook his head before answering Louise. “I’m too busy here to meet anyone.” 

Louise hummed in agreement. “I understand. What about you Phil?”  
  
“I think I need to go out first,” Phil quipped.

“Then let’s get that foot healed up. You boys are too young to be sitting at home,” Louise said before standing up and showing Phil the next rehab exercise. Dan tilted his head up towards the ceiling again in thought.

Did no one know about Charlie? Was Phil still in the closet around here? It seemed like he wouldn’t be with Charlie coming up to visit and getting hickies and whatnot. But maybe it hadn’t been a hickey, just a burn from his straightener? But what about Charlie’s hand on Phil’s knee? That had been pretty friendly. But Dan had slept in a bed with Phil….maybe Phil was just an affectionate person with his friends. He had seen him give PJ noogies or shake Chris’s arm vigorously to get his attention. Maybe he wasn’t even gay and Dan was just projecting his crush on to Phil- 

Dan was pulled out of his thinking spiral by something pushing against his shoulder. He looked upwards and noticed Phil standing over him. He turned his head minutely to the side and grimaced. “Mate, is that your rank foot touching me?”  
  
“I showered this morning. They’re fresh,” Phil said, pushing against Dan’s shoulder with his foot again, this time hissing a little at the pressure. Dan batted his left hand at Phil’s foot until he removed it and sat up. “Ready to go?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dan replied as he stood up, stretching his hands towards the ceiling and letting out a groan as his lower back popped. “That floor is so uncomfortable.”

“You’re not meant to lay on it,” Phil said. “Like yeah, stretch out on it, but not lay there and go to la la land.”  
  
Dan huffed as he followed Phil out of the trainers room, barely remembering to turn and wave goodbye to Louise as he left the room. They didn’t exchange any words as they made their way to the locker room so Dan could pick up his things, but the silence wasn’t awkward and Dan didn’t feel the compelling need from in his gut to fill it; instead it felt peaceful. That was one of the things that Dan liked about Phil; their silences, at least to Dan, didn’t feel awkward. While they could chat for hours, these quiet moments didn’t turn Dan into a jackass who spewed out everything that came to mind, appropriate or not. 

He was spending too much time with Olly, Dan thought. Curse those A-Levels philosophy students. 

Phil stopped outside the locker room while Dan ducked in, changed quickly into some street clothes, and grabbed his bags. Phil was staring at his phone with a tilted mouth when he walked out. 

“Everything okay?” Dan asked, hiking his duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Yeah, mum texted me and reminded me to eat something healthy tonight,” Phil explained. “I was thinking about ordering a pizza but now I have to cook.”

“I mean, tomatoes are healthy,” Dan said. His stomach rumbled, as if trying to use echolocation to locate the pizza. 

“But we both know the superior pizza is Texas BBQ,” Phil argued. 

“Throw some tomatoes on it,” Dan laughed. “It’s practically a salad then.”

Phil looked at him with his head tilted and a slightly “done” look on his face before starting to walk towards the exit door. “That’s not how that works. I don’t even think it would taste good. Maybe we can make a salad for dinner but do pizza for lunch?”  
  
“Sounds like a compromise,” Dan said with a smile as he followed him. “Maybe just send your mum a picture of the salad though.”  
  
“Smart,” Phil said, and Dan felt his chest heat up in warmth at the compliment. 

“I try,” Dan said, hoping his tone came off as airy as he meant for it to be. He didn’t want the compliment to go to his head, but his mind was already underlining and adding exclamation marks to the moment. He felt himself wrinkle his nose as Phil turned around. 

“You okay?” Phil asked, sounding concerned. 

‘ _Yes, I just happen to fancy you a lot,_ ’ Dan thought. What came out of his mouth was “Yeah, my clothes just smell.”

Dan was going to hang himself with his clothes. Why would he say that? Every guy with a dubious to pin down sexuality was _obviously_ turned on by the idea of someone reeling so bad because their clothes could be smelt through a duffle bag. 

Phil hung back for a moment and leaned into Dan’s duffle bag, frowning. “You must have a really sensitive nose. I can’t smell anything.”

 _Oh, thank god._

He could hold off on the hanging at least.

“Haha, yeah,” Dan laughed awkwardly before shifting it to the arm away from Phil before his lie became even more apparent. “So… your house?”

“Yeah,” Phil said, turning his dazzling smile on Dan before starting a debate about whether the pizza should be Texas BBQ or Margherita to at least make the attempt to be healthy.

By the time they had arrived to Phil’s house, they had decided on half-Texas BBQ and half-Margherita for pizza, that Dan needed to do laundry, and that video games were a MUST for the night, although they were still debating what to play as Phil brought Dan into the kitchen where the washing machine was. Dan unzipped his duffle bag and dumped it onto the floor of the kitchen as Phil actually ran to his room to grab his hamper. He started sorting his laundry into lights versus darks and chucked the formidable pile of darks into the washing machine. He poured in the laundry detergent to the top line and waited for Phil to come with his load.

Dan paused and let out a choked laugh at the phrasing. He managed to contain himself as Phil came around the corner, shouting about how obviously they needed to play Final Fantasy. 

“Noooooooo,” Dan groaned as he rolled his eyes. “What about Call of Duty?”

Phil wrinkled his nose in response as he tried to cram his load of darks in with Dan. “Call of Duty is boring.”

“Take that back,” Dan said. 

“Never.”

Dan debated tackling Phil to the floor and tickling him into submission. Phil had to be ticklish. But instead Dan just smirked. “You’re up to six rehab workouts now.” 

Phil’s mouth dropped open before curving into a pout. “This is blackmail.”

“Only a little,” Dan said. “It’s just light blackmail, I'm not trying to know your deep dark secrets. It’s actually closer to extortion.” 

“Fine. For every round of Call of Duty, we’re doing some Crash Bandicoot,” Phil finally conceded. 

“Done,” Dan said, sticking out his hand, which Phil took in his own soft, cold one to shake. Dan wondered what lotion he used to get his hand that soft as he gave a small shiver because of how cold Phil’s hand was. 

“Order pizza, then play?” Dan asked, still shaking Phil’s hand up and down, not wanting to be the first one to pull away. 

“Sounds good,” Phil said, finally pulling his hand away. “What kind of fizzy pop do you want?”

“Mmmm, I probably need to drink water honestly,” Dan said with a grimace. His water intake has been down lately, sometimes not finishing a full jug of water by the end of practice like he normally would. 

“Ribena?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” Dan said, forgetting every promise he had just made to himself in the face of Ribena. 

Phil tilted his head back with a laugh, his tongue sticking partially out the side of his mouth. 

Dan felt something click in the back of his brain. Sure, he had seen Phil do the tongue thing in person a few times since they had become friends, but he doesn’t remember seeing him do it at the club here. Or any club really. Why did he have this image of Phil doing that tongue thing as pink and yellow lights danced across his face? Maybe he had done it when they were in London, what felt like eons ago? Dan shook his head and let out an awkward chuckle of his own.

“C’mon, lets go order,” Dan said, knocking his shoulder into Phil’s as he passed him to head to Phil’s room, wherever that was. He paused misstep as the process of ordering caught up to him. “Shit. I forgot to stop by the bank. I can get you some cash on Monday, if that’s okay?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil said as he walked past Dan, who was frozen in place. 

“I can pay. I honestly just forgot to go by the bank this morning,” Dan said, feeling the back of his neck heat up rapidly. Phil turned around and looked Dan in the eyes. Phil’s looked more gray in this lighting instead of the normal kaleidoscope of colors. 

“Dan, you’re doing me a favor by staying here. I can buy some pizza. Promise,” Phil said, reaching out and giving Dan’s shoulder a squeeze. See, Dan’s mind said, affectionate. “Now come on, we have a mission to complete.” 

Dan gave Phil a little salute. “Aye, aye captain.” 

Phil smiled and turned to continue to his room, making Dan’s shoulder feel empty without the pressure of Phil’s hand on it. Upon entering, Phil grabbed the remotes to his PlayStation, turned on the console, and sat on the bed. He patted the spot next to him, which Dan sat down in, grateful he didn’t have to sit on the floor. Phil stretched out his (long) legs until some of them dangled over the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone, opening it up to the Dominos home screen.

“Just a sec,” Phil said, his fingers flying over the screen.

“Wouldn’t that be easier on a computer?” Dan asked, leaning over and watching as Phil checked little boxes.

“Too far away,” Phil said, causing Dan’s eyes to dart towards Phil’s foot and then back to the screen. Had Phil been using it too much? Was he in pain or just being a little lazy?  
  
“Is your ankle okay?” Dan asked, keeping his eyes on the small screen and hoped his voice sounded casual enough. 

“Yeah. It’s a little sore from the rehab, but I just need to rest it for a bit,” Phil said. Dan couldn’t see his face but Phil’s tone didn’t sound annoyed or put off by the question like it had the other day when PJ had asked. To be fair, PJ had asked every time Phil had put any sort of pressure on his foot, so Dan could understand the annoyance. 

“I could have grabbed your laptop for you,” Dan said, feeling his eyes roll.  
  
“Nah, this is fine,” Phil said, shaking his phone slightly in Dan’s face. “Thank you though.”

“No problem,” Dan replied before reaching out between Phil’s fingers and pressing on the box that said extra cheese. 

“Bleg.”  
  
“Excuse me?” Dan questioned, turning his face to see Phil’s. It had a true look of disgust on it.  
  
“I don’t like cheese,” Phil said, his nose wrinkling. “It tastes… weird.”

Dan blinked. “Mate, you know pizza already has cheese on it, right?”

“Well, that’s different. Pizza cheese isn’t real cheese.”  
  
“Pizza cheese… isn’t real cheese?” Dan repeated back to Phil, not hiding his incredulity. He could hear his voice rising in pitch as he pulled himself out of Phil’s bubble to stare at his face more clearly. 

“It tastes different,” Phil said, unchecking the box marked ‘extra cheese’. Dan figured it wasn’t worth the fight to try and have extra cheese tonight. His stomach would thank him later when he didn’t gain as much weight.

“It’s still real cheese!”  
  
“It’s not! It’s fake cheese! Fheese!”

“Fheese!?” 

“Fake cheese!”  
  
“Oh my goooood,” Dan groaned, hiding his face in his hands. 

“Oh, because you don’t have a food you dislike?”  
  
“I dislike some foods but not cheese! Cheese, and pizza specifically, is the meaning of life.”  
  
“Oh pish posh,” Phil said, going to the next page on the screen and inserting the choices for veggie toppings. “It’s good but it’s not that good.”  
  
“Take that back, cheese hater,” Dan said, pointing a finger in Phil’s face. 

“Never,” Phil said, meeting Dan’s eyes with an intensity that Dan only remembered from the ice.

Dan couldn’t say what part of his brain thought it would be a good idea (he suspected the broken synapse between the logic brain and the socialization cortex), but Dan brought his right hand down and dug his fingers into Phil’s right side, causing Phil to squeak.

“No, no, no, no,” Phil chanted as Dan dug them into his side again. 

Dan, smelling blood in the water, reached around to Phil’s other side with his left hand and dug his fingers in there too, taking advantage of the fact Phil was holding on to his phone. Phil let out a giggle and started to squirm.

“Stooooop.”  
  
“Nope,” Dan said, popping the p as he continued to tickle Phil, “take it back.”  
  
Phil shook his head from side to side, laughing, and Dan dug his fingers again again. He felt warmer here, Dan realized with a start. His hands were always so cold that Dan had assumed the rest of him would be frosty as well. But here, Dan could feel his heat through the thin fabric of Phil’s shirt, could more clearly feel Phil’s muscles under his hands. He was so distracted he didn’t notice Phil’s head dart forward until he had sunk his teeth into Dan’s shoulder.

Dan let out a hiss at the feeling but kept tickling Phil on autopilot until he felt Phil sink his teeth deeper into the meat of his shoulder. 

Dan paused in his assault.

Phil had bit him, was still biting him, hadn’t let go yet. Dan felt the back of his neck heat up and a twinge down south. He moved his fingers up, feeling Phil’s shirt tangle between his fingertips and get caught there, tugging on the fabric. He wasn’t moving and Phil wasn’t letting go yet. He slowly removed his hands from Phil and moved back, finding some resistance from Phil’s mouth. Dan was breathing heavily, could hear it in the silence of the room. His thighs were tensing. The twinge from early was like a solid presence in his pants and he needed to get up before Phil found out he got a semi from a fucking bite. 

“Ow,” Dan said, his voice a little on the breathy side. God, he wished it didn’t sound so breathy. Phil was going to know he was spotting a semi and would hate him forever. He pushed gently at Phil’s shoulder. “Phil, let go.”  
  
Phil unlatched his jaw immediately. His face had a slight flush to it, causing his eyes to really shine. “Shit, I’m sorry. You okay?”  
  
“I uh-”  
  
_No, I’m sporting a chub._

“-I don’t know; I’m gonna go check in the bathroom to see if you broke skin, you animal,” Dan said, plastering on a smile. He scrambled off of the bed and did his best not to run to the nearest bathroom. As soon as the door shut, he scrambled to push his sleeve down from his collarbone. He could see the outline of a bite but couldn’t see it well. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see it well because he could feel it throbbing there. Dan looked in the mirror, seeing that his face was red and his pupils were blown. Oh shit. Oh fuck, he couldn’t go back out like _this_. He turned on the cold tap and scooped some of the cold water into his hands before pressing his face into them. He repeated to process until his face was less flushed and the semi was no longer an issue. 

By the time he went back to Phil’s room, Phil was back on his phone. Dan couldn’t see what he was looking at, but he highly doubted he was laughing at their pizza order. Maybe he was laughing at Dan getting flustered from a bite? He took a step closer to the bed and winced at the loud creak that emanated from under the carpet.

“Ordered the pizza. It’ll be here in a few hours since it’s only ten. Is that alright?” Phil asked before looking up. He looked Dan over, a smile still on his face until it morphed into a wince. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to slobber on you.”

Dan looked down at his shoulder where he could feel a slight wet spot pressed against the warm and raised skin where Phil bit him. “I mean, I did attack you. Slobbering was only a defense mechanism.”  
  
Phil laughed. “Yeah mate, those hands should be registered as weapons of mass chaos.”  
  
“They already are; you’ve seen the way I kick your ass in video games,” Dan said as he hesitated to move closer. Should he go back on the bed? Would being that close to Phil cause him to get hard again? 

“Oh, it’s on, Howell,” Phil said, holding out a remote to Dan. “If you can’t beat me in thirty minutes, we’re switching to Crash Bandicoot.”

“It’ll only take me five minutes to beat you, Lester,” Dan said, climbing back on the bed and grabbing the offered remote once he was comfortable, making sure to leave a gap between himself and Phil. He didn’t trust himself not to respond if they had any contact at this point. Was he that backed up? He had just wanked this morning; surely he didn’t need to do it again so soon. 

They played video games until the pizza got there, shifting occasionally in the effort to get comfortable on the bed. Dan was acutely aware of how close they had scooted to each other over time, and his right arm was actually cold when Phil got up to greet the pizza man at the door. Dan followed him out of the room and leaned against the wall behind him as Phil paid for their stuff. Dan felt a momentary pang of guilt that he hadn’t contributed to dinner, but swore to himself he’d buy Phil good coffee for the next week to make up for it.

“Enjoy your pizza, sirs,” the delivery driver, a guy about Phil’s age, said, giving Phil a smile. 

“You too,” Phil cheerfully said as he shut the door. 

They made a stop in the kitchen to make glasses of Ribena and grab some napkins. Dan grimaced as he took a sip from his; Phil had made it too sweet. Dan followed Phil back to his room, where Phil set the pizza boxes on the floor and sat down next to them.

“Shit, we forgot plates,” Dan said. “Where are they? I can go grab them.”

“I can’t be arsed to do dishes,” Phil said before flipping open the box and picking up a piece of the Texas BBQ pizza and taking a bite out of it. Dan shrugged and sat down on the other side before tucking in to the pizza as well. They ended up forgoing the salad for a round of breadsticks and a cookie. Well, Phil had a cookie; Dan laid on the floor groaning because he had eaten too much pizza too fast.

“We didn’t even save any for later. I’m gonna have to train so hard next week,” Dan complained. 

“You have a cookie for later. Chocolate chip,” Phil said before sucking on the tip of his thumb, presumably to get some chocolate off. Dan did his best not to stare but knew it was a bit hopeless.

“Don’t even mention the cookie. I can never eat again,” Dan groaned, closing his eyes as his stomach cramped. 

“We still have salad for dinner,” Phil mumbled, slouching downwards. 

“Never. Again,” Dan groaned out.

The two of them laid on the floor for a few minutes, not talking. Dan pulled out his phone and answered a few texts that he had received earlier. He felt his eyebrows narrow as he looked and saw he had a text from Rebecca in there as well. 

**Rebecca :D** : _Hey dan!! Just wanted to check up on you and see how youve been : )_

 _  
_  
Dan wasn’t sure if he should answer. He rolled on to his stomach, wincing a little in pain and stared at the message for a little longer.

“If you stare any harder, you’re going to melt your phone,” Phil said. “Which would be a cool but useless super power. Imagine, just going around melting phones. No one would be able to communicate.”

“I would be a supervillain at that point,” Dan said, looking up from the text. 

“Looking up cheat codes?”  
  
“I told you, I don’t have to cheat, I’m just naturally gifted,” Dan said before shoving his phone into his back pocket. “Ready to lose?”  
  
“No, because it’s Crash Bandicoot. I’ve been playing this since you were in diapers, I am one with the bandicoot at this point,” Phil said, reaching back on the bed at a bad angle to try and grab the remotes. When he came back empty handed, Phil gave a huff and stood up to retrieve the remotes. He handed one to Dan before crawling across the room to the playstation and changing out the games. Dan stared at Phil’s bum where the edge of his briefs were sticking out. Calvin Klein, same brand as Dan. Dan jerked his head as Phil turned back around and focused on the bright colors appearing on the screen as the game loaded. 

_Come on Dan_ , he thought, _don’t make this sleepover weird_. **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	23. saturday, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday: the day of the week before Sunday and following Friday, and (together with Sunday) forming part of the weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I had an excuse for disappearing for so long but I don’t. Many apologies. However, it did give me time to think and I think instead of posting weekly, I’ll be posting biweekly (hopefully with longer chapters). I wish I could stay committed to weekly but I signed up for the Old School Phandom Big Bang on tumblr (y’all should follow them, the story summaries alone have me excited for posting).

Dan woke up the next morning looking at an unfamiliar ceiling, tangled in a thin throw blanket that he didn’t remember falling asleep with. To be fair to the blanket, he doesn’t even remember falling asleep. One minute, he and Phil had been watching Kill Bill while sitting on the floor and the next thing Dan knew, he was chilly and staring up at Phil’s ceiling, barely illuminated by the light of the telly. Unlike the flat though, Phil’s room didn’t have a window, so Dan wasn’t sure what time it was. He wiggled his hand into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He winced as the bright light of the screen lit up his face and checked the time. 

6:45 am. 

Dan let out a quiet groan and pressed his phone screen against his chest until it stopped glowing. Why was it that he struggled to wake up on mornings when he needed to but could wake up early when he didn’t have to? He closed his eyes and let himself doze off for a while, in that place between awake and asleep. He was almost about to fall asleep when he heard a creak from the bed above him. He opened his eyes halfway to see if there was any more movement and when there was none, let his eyes drift shut and sleep reclaim him, shivering occasionally.

The second time he woke up was just as peaceful. No screeching alarm, no gripping fear he was going to miss practice. He rolled on to his back before sitting up, looking to see if Phil was still in his bed. He nearly laid back down when he saw Phil laid on his side, and bare chested, scrolling through his phone. Dan could see a sparse smattering of hair on his chest and when his eyes drifted lower, he noticed the same wiry looking hair went in a line down Phil’s stomach. Dan looked away, feeling the back of his neck heat up. 

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Phil responded, not looking up from his phone. His voice was a little scratchy and Dan was reminded of the time they had shared a bed; Phil’s scratchy voice had sounded so much better in the valley their bodies had created. But Dan shouldn’t be thinking about that morning; Phil had asked him not to bring it up again after all.

“How’d you sleep?” Phil asked, finally looking up from his phone. 

“Cold,” Dan said, putting on an exaggerated shiver. 

“I gave you a blanket,” Phil said.

“Well, maybe I’ll need another one tonight. Not my fault your house is the bloody Arctic,” Dan said as he turned his phone on and checked the time. Almost ten. “Were you up long?”   
  
“Nah, I just woke up really. If left to my own devices, I’d sleep until noon.”   
  
“That’s the dream,” Dan said with a sigh. He’s been a reluctant early riser since he was twelve and started taking figure skating more seriously and competitively. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept in this late.”

“There was one year when Katie had a one pm slot available and I managed to get it,” Phil said. 

“What happened?”   
  
“My mom said I was being lazy and had to ‘pay my dues’ so I got moved back to the seven am slot,” Phil said with a frown before giving a shrug that screamed ‘what can you do’. 

Dan blinked. He never really thought about it but Phil must have been under some _ insane _ pressure from both of his parents. Phil never mentioned it but it must be hard doing the same discipline as his parents. Dan could only imagine how much worse it was for Martyn, who was actually in pairs skating. “I’m sorry.”   
  
“It’s fine,” Phil said as he sat up in bed, stretching his arms upwards. Dan heard a few vertebrae pop in the quiet of the room. “You hungry?”   
  
“I could eat,” Dan said, scooting backwards so Phil could step out of the bed. “What do you have?”   
  
“I can make eggs and toast? I know it’s not a proper fry up but I don’t think we have sausage.”

“That’s fine,” Dan said, standing up slowly and stretching. “Wait, before breakfast.”   
  
“Hmmm?”   
  
“Rehab,” Dan smirked, taking some pleasure in Phil groaning. But Phil sat back down on his bed without  _ too much _ of a fight (Dan could hear every mumbled complaint and instance of Phil calling him Satan) and extended his foot out. Dan took in the neon orange sock on Phil’s foot and watched as Phil slowly twisted his foot from side to side. He couldn’t tell if Phil was doing the exercise right, but at least he could tell Louise that he had tried. Phil stood up after a few minutes of just twisting his ankle around and padded across the room to the door. 

“Don’t you have to do the wall exercises,” Dan asked.

“Not every time. Louise doesn’t want me to stress the muscles too much,” Phil explained. “I should be doing it every other time so I’ll probably do them here in a little bit.”   
  
“Fiiiiine,” Dan groaned sarcastically before gently pushing at Phil’s shoulder. “C’mon.”

“Needy,” Phil said, his tone light and airy. 

“Only for food.”   
  
“What happened to ‘ _ don’t mention food to me ever again Phil _ ’, ‘ _ I can never eat again Phil _ ’, ‘ _ I’m a big baby _ \- Ack!”   
  
Dan pulled his wet finger out of Phil’s ear and ducked as Phil swatted at him. “You should have just walked!”

“I didn’t say anything untrue!”   
  
“It was the  _ way _ you said it. And I never said I was a big baby, so shut up,” Dan said, giving Phil’s shoulder gentle pushes until Phil started to walk to the kitchen, grumbling under his breath that Dan was a bully. 

“Do you need help?” Dan asked as he stood in between the counter and a table that was big enough for four people. 

“No, I think I’ve got it. Besides, you’re a guest. I’m supposed to cook and you’re supposed to appreciate whatever I put in front of you.”

“Should I be worried? Are you going to try and poison me?”

“No, too obvious if I do it now,” Phil said as he pulled some eggs out of the carton and carefully began cracking them into a bowl. 

Dan huffed as he leaned against the counter next to Phil, his right hip pressing into the counter at an uncomfortable angle. “Damn, there went my hopes and dreams.”

“What? You wanted to be poisoned?” 

“Not particularly but you got to admit, it would be a cool way to go. Imagine the headlines,” Dan said, holding his hands in front of him and spreading them apart slightly like he was smoothing something out, “figure skater, driven mad by jealousy, poisons young upstart. It would be the biggest scandal since Tanya Harding. You’d become immortalized with just a few drops of poison.

“Yeah, let me just dip into my iocane powder,” Phil drawled as he moved the scrambling eggs around in the pan.

“Inconceivable!” Dan exclaimed, tipping his head back to laugh. 

“You know that movie?”

“Yes Phil, I know that movie. How could I not? It’s a classic! I used to watch it when I was sick. I loved, oh who was it, Inigo Montoya! He was such a badass!”

“You killed my father, prepare to die,” Phil said, putting on a terrible accent to try and mimic Inigo. He had raised the spatula as he said it and Dan leaned his face forward, grabbing a piece of semi-cooked egg that had stuck to the spatula off with his teeth. He more than likely wasn’t going to die from salmonella doing that. That was the egg disease, right?

“At least your sword is tasty,” Dan said, chewing on the egg bits. “Could use some pepper though.” 

“Disgusting,” Phil laughed but he added in some pepper anyway. He went back to stirring the eggs, not washing off the spatula. Dan would say it was gross but it was his own germs so he wasn’t as concerned as he should probably be about ‘contaminating’ the eggs. They chatted about what made ‘ _ The Princess Bride _ ’ the best movie while the eggs finished cooking, Phil batting away Dan’s hands anytime Dan tried to help. 

“Phil, I don’t think the British Empire will fall again if I put the toast into the toaster,” Dan said, as he rolled his eyes. 

“No, but we’ll probably summon my mother somehow. She’ll know I was rude,” Phil said as he took the bread out of Dan’s hands and reached across Dan to put the bread in the toaster. Dan could feel his body heat from how close he was standing, could smell the slightly stale scent of aftershave on him from yesterday. He wished in that moment he could pull Phil even closer to him, wrap him up in a hug and they would kiss and-

Dan shook his head slightly, trying to erase that image from his head, tuning back into Phil talking. 

“-family has psychics ,” Phil said, “so a summoning isn’t out of the question. My family is probably full of witches.”   
  
“Oh, of course not,” Dan said. “Make the toast cook faster, oh witch on high.”   
  
“I would be a wizard,  _ thank you _ ,” Phil said a little snottily. “Or Emperor of the Universe.”   
  
“Oh? Emperor of the Universe is it? What’s your first decree then?” Dan asked, leaning in closer to Phil’s space. Dan watched as Phil’s milky skin turned a slight pink color and his mouth dropped open a little bit, like he was going to say something. Instead, Phil pushed at Dan’s shoulder with a roll of his eyes.

“First decree would be your mum,” Phil said. Dan rolled his eyes and shoved Phil back. 

“Shut up, actually,” Dan laughed, startling as the toast popped up in the toaster. Phil tipped his head back laughing loudly. 

“That’s what you get for defying the Emperor of the Universe,” Phil said in between laughs. “You looked like a cat.”

“How did I look like a cat?”

“Like you got all puffed up,” Phil said, depositing a piece of toast on Dan’s plate. 

Dan huffed and ignored Phil’s observation as he walked over and sat down at the small table in the kitchen. He slid his phone out of his pocket and checked it, surprised to see a text from Katie. 

**Katie:** Hello Daniel! Sorry to bother you on a weekend, but I forgot to remind you yesterday that you need to have a costume finalized soon if you want to have it altered in time. 

**Katie:** Please spend some time this weekend looking for something. Thank you.

Dan groaned as he read over the text. Sure, he had been  _ majorly _ procrastinating when it came to finding a costume, but he figured he could find something back in Wokingham when he went down there for his A Levels.

“Everything okay?” Phil asked, joining Dan at the table. 

“Yeah, just need to try and find a costume… like today,” Dan explained. “I’m skint too so now I need to start, like, a payment plan. Do you guys do payment plans in the store?”   
  
Phil gave a shrug and Dan sighed, leaning forward and letting his forehead thunk against the table. He was screwed. He was not going to be able to compete this season and he would have wasted everyone’s time and energy and he’d have to apply to universities and become a lawyer and leave  _ Phil _ and-

“You know, I think I have some of my old costumes in the attic. They’re probably from Juniors but you’re about the height I was as a Junior,” Phil said. “Wanna take a look after breakfast?” 

Dan blinked and tilted his head so his chin was resting on the table instead, staring and blinking at Phil. Phil’s costumes were going to be a step above whatever was in the shop attached to the rink, probably worth thousands of pounds instead of the cheap, mass manufactured ones Dan usually bought that were only five hundred pounds. They weren’t as nice as what other skaters wore but they got him through the program, even as he had stared enviously at other skater’s with nicer costumes. “You serious?”

“Sure,” Phil said with another shrug, this one looking a little stiffer than the last one.

Dan narrowed his eyes momentarily. Was Phil doing this because he felt obligated to? “I mean, we don’t have to, I can probably buy something from the shop. Your mom probably wouldn’t like it if I started walking around in one of your old costumes anyway,” Dan said, trying to appease Phil, who laughed instead of agreeing with him. 

“Dan, it’ll be fine. Mum’s been after me to donate some, they all add up between the four of us, but I like holding on to them,” Phil said.

Dan felt his shoulders relax, not feeling nearly as defensive as when he was trying to assure Phil he didn’t need one of his old costumes. “Are you sure?”   
  
“Positive,” Phil said before looking over the table with a defeated sigh. “I forgot to make coffee.”

“Caffeine fiend. Caffiend,” Dan said, feeling something warm in his chest as he listened to Phil laugh at his terrible pun.

-

They finished breakfast nearly three hours later because they kept getting off topic and going on tangents. Phil had eventually gotten up to make coffee halfway through in “an act of desperation”, and Dan could feel the caffeine buzzing beneath his skin as they made their way up to the attic. It was filled with neatly labeled boxes like ‘ _ Martyn’s Old Room _ ’, ‘ _ Kathryn’s Sewing Supplies _ ’, or ‘ _ Phil’s Secrets/ Do Not Touch! _ ’. 

“Hey Phil,” Dan said, trying to get Phil’s attention. “Phil.”

“Hmm?” Phil intoned, turning around to face Dan.

Dan reached out a finger and very deliberately touched the box marked ‘ _ Phil’s Secrets/ Do Not Touch! _ ’. “I touched it. What happens now?”   
  
“The world is imploding as we speak,” Phil said in a solemn voice, a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. 

“Damn,” Dan replied with a small laugh, pulling his hand back from touching the box that was taunting him now. He wanted to know all of Phil’s secrets, even the small ones. 

“That’s what you get for touching my secrets.”   
  
“World destruction? Seems like a bit of overkill for a few porn mags,” Dan said, stopping himself before he could go any further. Why had he said that? Now he was imagining a younger Phi, not much older than he was now with long hair and touching himself. Dan felt his cheeks start to blossom with heat and the back of his neck felt like it had gotten a sunburn. 

“I’ll have you know they were amazing porno mags,” Phil said, looking at Dan and blinking hard as he tilted his head. 

Oh, this was even  _ worse _ . Trying to imagine what Phil would look like, head tipped back like he did on the ice during a spin, hand on his dick, and stop it stop it  _ stop it _ Daniel. Focus. “What were they?”

Wrong thing to focus on, he thought.    
  
“I don’t know. I found them in a tree when I was younger, when I still lived in Rawstenwall,” Phil said with a shrug. 

Oh. Phil was serious. “Right...so...dodgily obtained porno mags aside-”   
  
“They were just left there! In a hole in a tree!”   
  
“.... _ riiiiiight _ . Hole in a tree my arse. Where are these costumes?”   


Phil let out a quiet huff, his eyes rolling. “Yeah, yeah. Give me a second, I think they are towards the back.”

“Are the boxes heavy? Do you need help?”   
  
“No, I’ve got it,” Phil said, pushing up his sleeve and flexing. When he spoke next, his voice had dropped, almost comically so. “I’m real manly, especially with my cordless hammer drill.”   
  
“Oh yeah,” Dan said, trying to sound like the Kool-Aid man. His impression sounded terrible but Phil still laughed anyway, leaning forward, his hands pressed against his knees that looked bony even through a pair of skinny jeans. 

Dan watched as Phil struggled to tug a tall box that came up to Phil’s shoulders off of the wall. It looked like one of the professional moving boxes, the fancy kind that came with a rail on the inside that Dan remembered his mom using when they had moved out after the divorce; Dan had just thrown his clothes into the nearest available box. He’s not even sure if he had folded them. Dan waited about a minute before going over to help Phil. 

“You’re the guest,” Phil complained. 

“The strong, manly guest,” Dan said as the box began to move forward toward the empty patch of room in the attic. “Jesus, what’s in this thing?”   
  
“About 12 years worth of costumes,” Phil said cheerfully before picking at the loose corner of tape on the box. “Maybe more.”   
  
“Mate, you have a problem.”   
  
“Maybe you can fit into one of my ones from when I was ten.”

“Only if you want me to be disqualified for indecent exposure,” Dan drawled, while keeping his eyes fixated on the box in front of him. He felt his fingers vibrating, wanting to reach out and touch the fabric inside the box. Would the quality difference between his off the rack costume and Phil’s be that different? He knew Phil had said that they were stuff he’s worn over the past few years, so that meant that Dan would see things Phil had won medals in; it would be like touching history. 

“I’d be more worried about some of the pieces coming off from how old they are,” Phil said before letting out a happy noise. “Success!”   
  
Dan looked and Phil was holding on to the piece of tape. He watched with what felt like wide eyes as Phil opened the box and on top was a wadded up costume that had pinks and whites on it. Dan reached out, noticing how below the costume, everything was hanging on a rail, inside of garment bags. 

“I probably shouldn’t have treated it like that,” Phil said as Dan grabbed the oddball costume. “It’s not its fault that I broke my ankle.”

Oh, Dan thought, watching as the fabric unravelled. This was the costume that Phil had started the most recent season in before he broke his ankle. It was gorgeous, if a little flamboyant. But to be fair, Dan considered anything beyond blacks and grays with the minimal amount of sparkle to be flamboyant. The costume consisted of a ombre pink jacket, starting with a light, baby pink and bleeding gently into a darker pink that was almost purple. On both shoulders were a hard, circle piece with gold ribbons coming off the left shoulder that reminded Dan of Prince Charming from  _ Cinderella _ . The jacket shut with more gold straps in the front, connecting into purple trim. Underneath was a white collared shirt that was half unbuttoned, with a skin colored mesh in the area where it laid open to conform to the modesty rules.

“I always thought it was...bright,” Dan said, trying to break the solemn, almost tense feeling that was in the air, eyeing the pink jacket in his hands

Phil gave a small smile, reaching out to take the costume from Dan’s hand, smoothing it out gently. “I have to wear colors; I’d blend into the ice if I didn’t.” He let out a bark of laughter, like the idea of blending into the ice was a possibility, like Phil’s skating wasn’t an all consuming experience to watch and no one was able to tear their eyes away from him. Dan felt a lump forming in his throat at the thought of someone  _ not _ noticing Phil and seeing how amazing he was. 

He coughed to clear his throat. What did someone even say to that? He looked at the hangers and found one with a gift tag, clearly labelling it as Phil’s costume from about three years ago, right about when Dan had entered the senior division. He struggled to pull the hanger free from how closely packed the box was and eventually pulled it free.

“This the one with themes on….love? Right?” Dan asked, breaking the silence. He watched as Phil’s lips turned up into an easy smile. 

“Variations on love, yeah. I don’t know who knows my routines best: you, Katie, or my mum,” Phil said. 

“Your mum. I asked her last night,” Dan quipped, laughing as Phil shoved him.

“Actually shut up,” Phil giggled, his cheeks turning a cute pink color.

Dan looked away and into his lap where the costume was resting. Dan took the opportunity to open up the clothes cover and watched as black mesh was revealed to him. On top of the mesh were large, fake crystals that looked like shards of ice. He touched the right side, which wasn’t mesh, and was surprised to find that it was a black velvet instead of just a stretchy, black fabric. It felt so nice against his fingertips. Dan opened up the garment bag a bit wider and watched as the crystals went further down, stopping at the waist where a….skirt began. Well, it was more of a half-skirt, but still a skirt. Maybe Dan could remove the skirt… no. He could not remove the skirt on the costume Phil wore when he placed third in the Grand Prix. He had won a medal in this. 

Maybe the luck would rub off on him, Dan thought as he gently fingered the velvet on the right side of the costume. 

“You could try it on you know,” Phil said, causing Dan to jump a little. “I don’t mind. It might be a little big on you though.”   
  
“I feel like I’d be desecrating a relic,” Dan said. 

“Nah, it would survive,” Phil said. “I trust you to be gentle.”

“Well, turn around then I guess,” Dan said, feeling like he was too easily convinced to do things where Phil was concerned. “Unless you want me to change in the bathroom?”

“No, right here is fine,” Phil said, turning so his back was to Dan. 

Dan set the garment bag down gently on the box and started to shuck his clothes off. The rustle of them felt too loud in the room so Dan tried to move slower to lessen the sound. When he was down to his boxer briefs, he pulled the costume from the garment bag and carefully shimmied it on. He reached back to grab the zipper and couldn’t reach it without dislocating his shoulder. “Okay, I need help. How did you get this zipped during the season?”   
  
“I usually asked someone in the changing room to zip it for me,” Phil said, turning around to face Dan, his eyes dragging up and down Dan’s front quickly. What was Phil thinking? Did Dan look bad in it? “Turn around? I’ll grab it for you.”   
  
Dan obeyed and felt Phil placed his hand flat against his shoulder blade as he pulled the zip up, the collar feeling a bit constricting on his neck. Not enough that he couldn’t breath but just enough that Dan was acutely aware of it. He turned back to face Phil when he heard the zipper stop moving. He thought for a moment that he could actually _ feel  _ Phil’s eyes on certain parts of his body as Phil’s eyes scanned his body.

“It doesn’t look baggy, that’s good!” Phil exclaimed happily. “I mean, it’s a little baggy near the ankles but that’s an easy fix.”   
  
“Really? It doesn’t look bad?” Dan said, looking down his own front like he’d be able to see the full affect the outfit had. It was too bad there wasn’t a mirror up here, Dan thought, sucking in a stomach a little bit as he looked down. He wanted to see what he really looked like, not rely on Phil just being nice to know what he looked like. 

“It would look really good for your short program,” Phil said, considering. “I mean I have a few others but this suits you.”   
  
“Must be because it’s as black as my soul. Is the… skirt. Er. Does it look okay?”

“It looks good,” Phil said, picking gently at some of the fabric that sat on Dan’s shoulders. “Did you want to try on some others?” 

“I don’t want to put you out,” Dan said. 

“You wouldn’t be,” Phil replied. 

“Maybe if we find something else, we can take a break?”

“Well, until then, then I’m going to put you to work,” Phil said, bending over the opening to the box and pulling out two garment bags from the bottom. He turned and handed them to Dan without even pausing to look at the tags saying when they were from. “These are going in the give away pile.”

“Brat,” Dan muttered, letting out a screech as Phil chucked one of the two garment bags at his head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	24. saturday, part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturday: the day between Friday and Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here we go again. I know this chapter took me a while and I apologize for that. I’m trying to get back in the swing of things (yay med changes) and I _should_ be able to stick to the biweekly posting I promised last chapter. 
> 
> Also: 5,000 hits? Guys!? I’m so touched and I want to thank everyone who commented, kudoed, subscribed, or simply read and enjoyed. This story is my baby and it means so much to me that it’s getting this much love! I will say keep your eyes peeled around Christmas; there might be a little surprise from this AU getting posted around then to thank everyone!

Dan flopped backwards onto Phil’s bedroom floor dramatically, throwing an arm over his forehead, victorious and sweaty. After spending nearly two hours up in the attic, because Phil was apparently more sentimentally attached to his costumes than Dan thought, they had decided to play  _ Just Dance _ on the Wii for a few hours. He could feel the back of his shirt wet against his back and wished he could change clothes but that involved getting up and honestly, after trying on costumes earlier, he was over the whole getting dressed thing. He had tried on a few more of the costumes but none of them felt as  _ right  _ as that first costume with the half-skirt had. He could imagine skating to Firebird in it, swirling and looking as ‘majestic’ as the mythical bird itself. He was even growing attached to the half-skirt. Maybe he’d be able to find the other costume he needed back home, he thought idly as Phil climbed over him and on to his bed. 

“There was so much dancing,” Dan heard Phil whine.   
  
“Yeah, but you still lost. Should have done more DDR when you were younger,” Dan said. 

“Ugh,” Phil grunted from the bed above him. Dan sat up and swiped at the foot that was hanging off the edge of the bed, causing Phil to let out a whine from the pillow he had pressed his face into. “That hurt.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Dan said. “I barely tapped you.”

“Not a baby,” Phil said, turning his head so he was facing Dan, still cushioned on the pillow. “What do you want to do now?” 

“I don’t know,” Dan said, before an evil idea crossed his head. He couldn’t tell Phil about it. Phil wouldn’t find it funny, he was too nice. Unless...unless he would find it funny and entertaining to do. They didn’t even have to leave the house to do it after all. “Actually...I mean...we could prank someone.” 

Dan met Phil’s eyes and Phil had a look of absolute glee on his face. “What, like calling and asking if the refrigerator is running?” 

“I was thinking something a little...more,” Dan said with a hand wave. 

“What did you have in mind?”   
  
“Wellllll,” Dan said, pulling out his phone, ignoring the few text messages and Twitter updates he had on his screen. “I was thinking of pranking people on a dating site.”

“Oh?” Phil definitely sounded interested. 

“Nothing like, malicious. Just weird,” Dan clarified. “Like saying we have six nipples or some weird shit.”   
  
“Harry Styles has six nipples.”

“Yeah, and have you seen his hair? He’s weird.”   
  
“It’s full of secrets,” Phil said sagely, leaving Dan blinking in confusion. 

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you haven’t seen Mean Girls,” Phil said before widening his eyes and talking faster. “Corn had me watch it with her! Only reason I watched it!”

“You sound way too defensive mate. It’s okay if you like chick flicks,” Dan said, doing his best to sound reassuring, while on the inside he was giggling at this new fact about Phil. He even reached out and comfortingly patted his ankle. 

“Like it was  _ okay _ ,” Phil said, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Not as good as Kill Bill or anything.”   
  
“Course not. Nothing is as good as Kill Bill,” Dan said with a small smile, remembering last night as they had sleepily watched the carnage, pressed shoulder to shoulder as they laid on Phil’s bedroom floor. “Hmmm...maybe like Wall-E.”   
  
“Oi, you can’t give me shit and then bust out that you like Disney,” Phil huffed. 

“I didn’t give you shit! I was supportive!”   
  
“It’s okay if you like chick flicks,” Phil said in a high pitched, mimicking voice that sounded _ nowhere _ near what Dan sounded like. 

Dan huffed. “It’s full of secrets,” Dan mimicked back. “I’m Phil and I think chick flicks are ace. Everything is ace.”

“I said that in like one interview! You can’t hold that against me! That’s Northern discrimination,” Phil said, climbing off the bed. Dan started scooting backwards. He didn’t trust the look in Phil’s (very pretty) eyes, especially when he saw Phil’s hands doing like a scrunching motion. No, not a scrunching. A  _ tickling _ motion.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Dan chanted until he hit the wall, laughing before letting out a squeal as Phil ducked down and fit his hand just right at Dan’s side to tickle him. “Stoooooop.”

“Take it back,” Phil said, his tone nowhere near serious. He was laughing, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth and Dan had a momentary out body experience. 

He remembered a moment at...a bar? Yeah, a bar, but it wasn’t the last time they had gone out. Phil wasn’t leaning against a wall, he was standing by a bar. He was wearing a blue shirt with a slight shine to it and laughing, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. Dan blinked and Phil was staring at him strangely.

“Are you okay? Did you hit your head?” Phil asked, his hands held in front of Dan like he was holding himself back from touching him. “I’m sorry.”   
  
“No, no, I’m fine,” Dan said. “Sorry, I just had a moment of dejavu.”   
  
“Oh? I wonder if there was another version of Phil tickling another version of Dan,” Phil said, looking hopeful. 

“Maybe. What version do you think it was?”   
  
“Hmmmm...the version where we have eight hands. Makes it easier to tickle.”   
  
Dan tipped his head back and whined when he did hit his head on the wall. “Owwww, ow, ow.”   
  
Phil backed away from Dan and stood up, holding his hand out to Dan. “C’mon, away from the wall with ye.”   
  
“God, I almost want the version of you where you have eight hands if you talk like that,” Dan mumbled, standing up, noticing how cold Phil’s hand was. “Actually, I take that back. Too cold. Just touching you is giving me hypothermia.” He gave an exaggerated shiver and, with a bit of reluctance, let go of Phil’s hand.

“I resent that. My hands are a perfectly normal body temperature,” Phil said, clasping a hand to chest. Dan could see as Phil physically squeezed his chest, could see the way his shirt wrinkled under the pressure. 

“Yeah, for a yeti,” Dan snorted before dropping down in front of Phil to retrieve his phone before it got stepped on. He popped back up quickly and unlocked his phone. “Yeah, okay, what dating sites are there?”   
  
Phil shrugged. “I dunno.”   
  
“Helpful,” Dan snorted as his fingers flew over the keyboard, looking up the term ‘dating app’ in the app store of his phone. The first thing that popped up was...Grindr? He wondered briefly if it was made by the same creators as Tumblr and shook his head of that notion. Well, it was the first one that popped up so it was probably fine, Dan thought as he downloaded the app. “Okay, got it. Now let’s make a profile I guess?”

Phil shrugged. Dan shrugged back before bending back over his phone screen and started putting together a profile. He put the first name as Dil and the last name as Howlter after talking it over with Phil and deciding a fake name would be better than either of their real ones. 

“It wants a picture,” Dan said, looking at Phil and biting his lower lip. 

“Here,” Phil said, walking across the room and grabbing the ceramic guinea pig that sat on his dresser. He carefully put it on the bed and Dan spent nearly five minutes trying to get the perfect shots of the guinea pig in different poses. 

“Yes darling, yes,” Dan said, feeling his chest grow warm as the overly dramatic accent he put on made Phil giggle to the side of him, ”make love to the camera for me.”   
  
“That just sounds messy,” Phil said through some giggles. 

“Ew,” Dan gagged as the image of someone  _ literally _ making love to the camera crossed his mind. “You ruined this photoshoot.” Dan paused and looked at Phil, feeling guilty. That had been a bit harsh, they had just been messing around after all; Phil couldn’t have ruined anything. Dan nervously bit his lower lip. “Sorry.”

Phil waved him off with an easy laugh. “I could have added some make-up, dolled him up a bit. I’ve been a pretty terrible assistant.” Phil reached out and set the guinea pig upright on the duvet. 

Dan felt his shoulders lose some of the tension they had held at Phil’s easy dismissal. Okay, good, he hadn’t fucked up too badly. Dan scanned through the photos he had taken and chose one of the guinea pig staring at the camera. Dan showed the photo to Phil. “You like?”   
  
“I’d chat us up if that was our photo,” Phil said with a nod. 

“Good to know you’re a furry,” Dan said as he drew his phone back.

“Just whisker me up; I’d make a great cat,” Phil said. 

“Find me a pen then, cat,” Dan said off-handedly, distracted by the last few steps of signing up for grindr. He quickly went through it, blinking when something crossed in front of his phone screen rapidly. “Is...is that a sharpie?”   
  
“Only pen I had,” Phil said. “From the cast and all.”   
  
“Of course,” Dan said, setting his phone down carefully and taking the pen from Phil. “You’re going to be scrubbing for days.”   
  
“So will you,” Phil said.

“Oh?”   
  
“Yeah. I’m gonna...gonna whisk you up after you do me.”   
  
Dan tipped his head back and laughed at Phil’s terrible phrasing. “Whisk me up, eh?” 

“Yeah. You know...give you whiskers,” Phil explained.

“Stop moving,” Dan said, gently holding Phil’s jaw. He could feel a slight scruff on Phil’s jawline against the palm of his hand. What would it feel like if they kissed, with Dan holding both sides of Phil’s face? “I’m gonna mess up your whisks.”   
  
Phil stopped moving as Dan gently drew a black nose on Phil’s nose and then three lines on each of Phil’s cheeks. He tilted Phil’s head back and forth, trying to make sure they were relatively even. They seemed okay so Dan took a step back. 

“Nope, you’re not escaping that easily, Howell,” Phil said, patting the bed next to him. “Your turn.”   
  
Dan gave an exaggerated sigh and sat on the bed next to Phil. Phil turned and cupped Dan’s cheek like Dan had cupped his and this felt so  _ intimate _ . Phil, or Dan, could easily lean forward and press the other into a kiss. Phil’s hand felt cool against Dan’s rapidly heating skin. Dan felt himself wrinkle his nose as the sharpie fumes hit his nose. 

“Stop moving,” Phil said and Dan did his best not to jerk back as the sharpie pen scraped across his nose and cheeks, the liquid cool against his skin. Dan shut his eyes and relaxed as Phil did small strokes across his cheeks for the whiskers. “Alright done.” Phil gave a gentle two fingered tap to Dan’s cheek and Dan opened his eyes. 

Phil was so close, Dan thought, looking into his blue-green-yellow eyes. Dan kind of wanted to stare into them for forever, but the back of Dan’s mind was chanting _ charliecharliecharlie _ . So Dan coughed and looked away, down at his phone where they already had an alert for Grindr. 

“Oh shit,” Dan said out loud, picking up his phone. “Already got a hit.”   
  
“Told you,” Phil said, giving what looked like a strained smile to Dan. Did Phil not want to do this? Had Dan pressured him into this prank? 

“We uh. We don’t have to do this,” Dan said looking down into his lap. “Like if you think it’s lame or whatever.”   
  
“Are you kidding? I think this is going to be great,” Phil said and Dan looked back up, searching Phil’s face for any hint of discomfort. 

“Promise? You’re not just saying that?”   
  
“Promise,” Phil said and Dan felt himself relax and open the app, letting out a screech as the picture loaded. 

“It’s a dick pic!”

Phil tipped back on the bed and started giggling maniacally. 

Fucking helpful, Dan thought as he hoped to erase that image from his mind for all of eternity as he googled for a picture of a guinea pig’s penis to send back, his chest pleasantly warm as he let Phil’s laughter wash over him.

-

They spent nearly an hour trying to prank the guys (and it was all guys, leading to Dan finally realizing he had downloaded what was a gay hookup site with the amount of dick pics they received) on Grindr. Whereas Dan had moved on to the floor, feeling butterflies in his stomach everytime Phil had brushed against him, Phil hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed except to get more comfortable, hanging nearly off the bed anyway. Dan yawned into the crook of his elbow, waiting for Phil to finish typing out his response since it was his turn. 

“You ready for bed?”   
  
Dan debated it for a minute before shrugging. “Yeah, sure.”  


Dan watched as Phil scooted back on the bed, creating space. Phil patted the now empty space on the bed, like Dan was a dog he was trying to encourage to join him on the bed. “C’mon.”

  
“On the bed?” Dan felt himself blinking rapidly. Why would Phil invite him on the bed? Was this a test? Dan tested horribly when it came to social situations. 

“Yeah,” Phil said quietly. “Is...is that okay?” 

“Yeah, no, it’s okay,” Dan said, slowly standing up and carefully climbing on the bed. “Much more comfortable than the floor.” He looked at Phil for a minute before shuffling out of his jeans, figuring if it had been fine the night they had all gone out, it would be fine now. 

The bed wasn’t much bigger than his so when he laid down, his body was close to Phil’s. He couldn’t feel the other’s body heat, but Dan was aware of how close they were just the same. Dan was unsure if he was facing the wrong way. Did Phil mean for them to share face to foot? Was the fact they could stare at each other a little too...intimate? Phil didn’t say anything as he pulled the blue and green checkered duvet over them so Dan guessed this was okay. Dan exhaled and reached for Phil’s second pillow, curling himself around it like a koala. His neck was going to be sore but he would rather deal with that than tossing and turning because he had the cuddling instincts of a limpet. 

“Need a cuddle?” Phil asked, amusement coloring his tone. 

Dan huffed into the pillow and gave a one sided shrug. “Yeah. It’s how I sleep best. Is...is that okay?” 

“Yeah, course. Everyone could use a cuddle,” Phil said, his voice already sounding sleepy. His eyes were already closed as he spoke. “Cuddles are the best.”   
  
“They are,” Dan agreed quietly, closing his eyes to talk. Maybe it wouldn’t feel as intimate if he wasn’t looking at Phil. But he didn’t want the night to end this early either. “What was the best cuddle you ever had?”   
  
Dan was a bloody masochist. He didn’t want to hear about Charlie and how he was probably a great cuddler on top of being better than Dan at skating. Dan listened to Phil give a hum, as if he were deep in thought. 

“I dunno. I mean. I liked that cuddle we had a few weeks ago. But have you ever had a cuddle with PJ?”   
  
“No,” Dan said, his throat feeling dry at the mention of the drunken night that Phil hadn’t wanted to bring up again. Was that a thing? Was it okay to bring it up now? Sure, nothing had happened, but Dan had felt like he had done something wrong that night anyway. Apparently not? 

“He’s a good cuddle but he’s not as warm as you. You’re like a furnace,” Phil continued, pressing his feet forward so his socked toes grazed Dan’s shins. Dan pressed his legs forward so he could feel Phil’s toes better, instead of the tease of his socks.

“I should fight him for the cuddling champion,” Dan mumbled, feeling drowsy and content underneath the duvet. He must be tired from all the Just Dance earlier. 

“You’d definitely win,” Phil mumbled back. 

“Good.”   
  
Phil let out a very undignified snort. “Competitive freak.”   
  
“Okay, actual living legend Philip Michael Lester.”   
  
“Shut up, actually shut up,” Phil huffed. “Shut up competitive freak Daniel…Daniel...Howell.”   
  
“You don’t even know my name? I’m obviously winning the friend award.”

“We’d share it,” Phil said. “Because you share in friendship.”   
  
“Yeah,” Dan said, his own voice sounding drowsy. “I’d share it.”

Phil didn’t answer except to press his toes harder against Dan’s shins. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	25. sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday is the day of the week between Saturday and Monday. Sunday is a day of rest in most Western countries, and part of the weekend.

Dan woke up warm, borderlining on sweltering. He was flat on his back with something (okay, he knew it had to be Phil, unless he had been kidnapped in the middle of the night) on top of him, pressing him into the mattress. One of his arms was wrapped around Phil’s waist and Dan resisted the urge to squeeze Phil tight like he was his Pooh bear. He tried to move one of his legs and found it was also tangled up in Phil’s leg. He stopped moving, selfishly not wanting to jar the other awake and end the cuddling prematurely. He opened his eyes half-way and could make out Phil’s black hair with the help of the TV backlight (had Phil never been yelled at to shut off his television to save on the electric bill?). Dan’s hand twitched with the sudden, intense longing to run his hand through the soft looking black hair, but he didn’t dare, sure that the motion would wake Phil up and  _ definitely _ lead to an awkward conversation about how they were just mates. Phil’s face was pillowed on his chest and Dan could feel the warmth of his breath through his t-shirt as Phil exhaled. 

Dan stared up at the ceiling, unsure of what to do. He could move, disrupting everything or he could lay here quietly and pretend for a moment that Phil chose  _ this _ , had chosen him to cuddle instead of just seeking out warmth in the middle of the night. He shut his eyes and tried to control his heart rate, feeling like that one story where the protagonist was absolutely sure everyone could hear the beating of the heart underneath his floorboards. The Tell Tale Heart, Dan thought, narrowing his eyes in the dimly lit space as he tried to remember the plot from when he had read it a few years ago. He couldn’t be arsed to remember the author however since they didn’t cover American authors on his A-Levels. 

God, his A-Levels. The retest was coming up soon. Shit, it was in like two...three? weeks. He needed to double check and he  _ really _ needed to buckle down and study for his test. He had been slacking lately and was at least a chapter behind where he wanted to be by this time. He still needed to see if he could look at some of Olly’s review questions. Olly had invited him to come over this weekend and Dan probably should have taken him up on it, but it had been forgotten in the face of hanging out with Phil. He’d text Olly later and see if he could come over this upcoming Saturday. Unless the test was this upcoming weekend....? No, that seemed too soon... 

Dan was so lost in his thoughts that it took him a moment to realize that the body on top of him was shifting and moving. He felt Phil’s head turn and his chin dig into Dan’s chest. Someone needed to talk to Phil about his pointy, jabby chin.

“Hey,” Phil said, his throat raspy and sleepy and Dan wanted to hear this for the rest of his life. 

“H-hey,” Dan stuttered, stuck on the thought of him and Phil being not only _ together _ , but together  _ forever _ . Like that would ever happen, especially when Phil was with Charlie and seemed happy. 

“I can feel your heartbeat,” Phil said, his voice quiet. 

“I can feel you,” Dan said, unsure of what he meant by that.  _ Obviously _ he could feel Phil. He was laying on Dan like Colin (the family dog) would. But instead of moving away, like Dan assumed he would, Phil seemed to remelt into Dan, tilting his head so it was flat against Dan’s chest and wrapping an arm around Dan’s middle. Dan felt his heartbeat go haywire and he couldn’t control it.

“I can feel you too. You’re warm,” Phil said, giving Dan’s middle a squeeze before blessedly (unfortunately?) moving off of Dan and climbing off the bed, nearly kneeing Dan in the cock as he did so.

“Watch it,” Dan said, his hands reflexively coming down to protect himself. 

“Sorry, need to wee,” Phil said, stretching in front of the television, pausing to scratch at his lower stomach though the t-shirt he wore. 

Dan should not feel as endeared as he did by the fact Phil said wee instead of piss.

“You don’t need to K.O. my dick to do that,” Dan mumbled under his breath instead. 

“Maybe I do,” Phil teased, leaning forward and pretending to punch Dan in the dick, making Dan flinch. “New weeing ritual.”

“Ha, ha,” Dan intoned in a monotonous voice, turning on his side to face Phil better. “Very funny. Go piss.”   
  
“Maybe I won’t. Maybe it was all a ploy to punch your dick.”   
  
“Sadist.”   
  
Phil tipped his head back and laughed, waving off the insult with a flappy hand. “Think of what you want for breakfast.”   
  
“Food,” Dan said automatically, truly not picky about what they would be eating. 

“Fine, eggs it is,” Phil said. Dan could almost see the smile on his face before Phil turned and walked out the door. 

“Don’t forget to do your stretches,” Dan called after him, getting off the bed and searching for the light switch. He heard a dramatic groan come back as his answer.

He blinked rapidly as the room was plunged into brightness before padding over to the tv and shutting it off. He turned his sights on the bed and debated making the bed before he shook his head and ducked down for his skinny jeans on the floor. He should probably change his boxers, but that seemed like an after breakfast thing when he redried his clothes that were still sitting in the dryer from yesterday. He was jumping in one spot, trying to pull his trousers on when Phil walked back in the room. 

“Did you even wash your hands?”   
  
“Nope,” Phil said, pushing his hand into Dan’s hair and swirling his fingers around in his hair.

“Fucking sicko,” Dan said, pretending to gag. 

Phil laughed obnoxiously before hunting down his pajama pants and pulling them on. Dan stared at his backpack, wishing he had thought to go digging for his own sweatpants, but he had already committed to the skinnies. It also helped him not stare at the pale expanse of the back Phil’s thighs. 

He followed Phil down to the kitchen and tried to help Phil with breakfast, but Phil kept arguing he was a guest, much like yesterday. Dan was only slightly offended.

“I thought I was a friend, not a guest,” Dan said, putting on his best pout. It’s not that he particularly wanted to cook, he just felt bad that Phil had cooked for him, bought pizza, AND had given him a costume. How was he supposed to pay Phil back for everything he had done for Dan?

“You can be both a friend and a guest. Now sit.” 

“I’m not a dog,” Dan huffed but sat at the small table anyway, turning a chair backwards and facing Phil. He crossed his arms and set them on the back of the chair, letting his chin drop on them, continuing to pout. Phil seemed unmoved by his face. Figured.

“You’d be a horrible dog, even with those puppy dog eyes. You’re more like a hamster.”

“A hamster?”

“Yeah. Because they’re ace,” Phil explained as he poured some milk (at least it looked like milk but the carton was much smaller) into the eggs in the pan. 

Dan dipped his head and felt himself smile against his forearm. Phil thought he was ace? The thought of that made his heart constrict but in a good way. Dan cleared his throat before bringing his face back up to talk.

“Did I ever tell you about my pet hamster?” Dan asked.

Phil turned away from the stove and blinked. “You had a hamster?”

“Yeah, Suki,” Dan said, a fond smile crossing his face at the memory. “I loved her so much. I spent all my allowance on building her the ultimate tank with all those attachments. Then she caused my first existential crisis.” 

Phil blinked. “How...how did she do that?”

“She escaped one day and I realized that she was living in a prison, even if it had a revolving nightclub attachment,” Dan explained. “She would rather die a free hamster than live as a captive.”

“I used to breed hamsters, funny enough,” Phil said, scooching the spatula around the frying pan. “I think mine were just regular hamsters though, not existential hamsters.” 

Dan blinked. “I didn’t know that you used to breed hamsters.”

“It doesn’t come up much,” Phil said. “Used to drive my mum mad. Just when I would sell a litter, another would come and the cycle kept repeating itself until my female hamster died.” 

“Your poor mum,” Dan said, a smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. 

“I was called ‘hamster boy’ at school. It was my preferred nickname honestly. It was kind of nice not being called ‘highlighter head’ or ‘skater ballerina boy’.” 

“I get what you mean,” Dan said, after taking a moment to process. “I used to be really loud in school because then I wouldn’t get teased about skating. I’d be teased about being loud as fuck instead of skating. As if they didn’t go to the ice rink too.” 

“Exactly!” Phil exclaimed, shooting his arms outward, a bit of egg flying off the spatula and onto the floor. “Like I’d see them come in and act really nice but then at school it was like I was a piranha.” 

Dan furrowed his eyebrows. “A piranha...did you mean a pariah?”

“Yes, that. Although being a piranha would have been much cooler. Imagine being able to just take a chunk out of whoever made fun of you,” Phil said, looking at Dan and clinking his teeth together a few times. 

Dan strained to look at the food in the pan, got up, and searched for two plates. After he found them, he set them on the counter next to Phil’s station. It was the least he could do since Phil had cooked. He watched as Phil loaded up the plates with eggs before scooping a spoonful of butter into the pan and dropping a piece of toast in when it was melted. 

“I...I was bullied at school a lot too,” Dan quietly said, breaking the calm between them. “It went past the skating in secondary school but...but I get how you feel.”

“Yeah,” Phil sighed, as he flipped a piece of toast over. “I think the worst part would be when they would call me things and deep down I knew it was true, y’know?”   
  
Dan thought back to all the times that someone at his school would call him a poof or a faggot. How none of the teachers would stand up for him. How Dan had kissed girls he wasn’t even interested in to make the name calling stop (even though it didn’t make the name calling stop) but at the back of his mind, deep at night he would pray to his grandmother’s God for the thoughts about boys to go away, hoping if the thoughts went away, the teasing would as well. He thought about Bex’s disgusted face, the last time he saw her, when she asked if it was because of a boy. “Yeah,” he croaked out. “I get what you mean.” He didn’t turn his head to look at Phil, unsure of what he would find there. Would it be understanding? Comradery? Or would Phil realize he was disgusting, that he had been lusting over Phil even though he was his friend? He picked up his plate when Phil dropped a piece of toast on it and walked over to the table. 

“I...I think f-faggot hurt the most.” Phil spoke quietly, but in the nearly silent kitchen, except for the sizzling butter, it sounded louder than Bonfire Night fireworks. Dan nearly dropped his dish. He turned to look at Phil, who was staring down at the frying pan with too much concentration to be natural. 

“O-oh?”   
  
“Yeah,” Phil continued. “I...I didn’t know how they knew, but they knew, and it was something I couldn’t change. I tried and I just...I  _ couldn’t _ . It was like they knew before I did.”

Dan felt like he couldn’t breath. Felt like he couldn’t move or he would break the moment, so he stood by the table, holding the plate tightly in his hands. Sure, he had  _ suspected _ Phil was gay, hell he was sure Phil had a boyfriend, but it was another thing to hear it, hear that someone else had had some of the same experiences as him. To hear he wasn’t alone in this weird, irrational world, set adrift.

“Oh,” Dan whispered out, slowly setting his plate down and walking back towards Phil. He hesitantly reached out and pulled back a few times before he set a hand on Phil’s upper arm. “I...I’m sorry to hear that happened to you.”

Why had he said  _ you _ ? Why hadn’t he said  _ us _ ? Why hadn’t he-

“It’s fine,” Phil said, in a tone that said it was anything but fine. “I...I’m fine, really. I have my skating, I have friends, I have y-. The point is that I’m not there anymore. A lot of them still live in Rawstenwall but I got to leave there and discover something better than all...all that small mindedness, you know? I got to go on to do something awesome. It’s not Emperor of the World but it’s better than their boring,  _ normal _ lives.”

“Normalness leads to sadness,” Dan quoted, watching as Phil gave him a weak smile as Dan slowly let go of Phil’s upper arm. Phil had said that in an interview a few years ago and Dan had fallen in love with the quote (and probably Phil, now that he thought about it, but the hero worship was nothing compared to how he felt now). That quote, almost alone, got him through his last year of school and the ramped up bullying that had taken place, even though he had a girlfriend and a group of friends and had been trying to be normal. The quote had been promising to him; that someday he’d leave behind all the ‘normalness’ that had taken place in Wokingham over the past few years that had made him miserable. 

“Yeah, normalness  _ does _ lead to sadness,” Phil agreed. “No, exactly, that’s what that quote was for. It was like a giant fuck you, you know?” Phil was staring into his eyes and Dan couldn’t breathe, pinned under the gaze. Why couldn’t Dan just admit that he understood what he was saying better than most people? Why couldn’t he just say ‘I’m bisexual’, ‘Sometimes I like boys’, or even the worst case scenario ‘I like you’? Instead, he leaned into Phil’s space and tentatively wrapped his arms around Phil, his shoulder digging into Dan’s chest with the angle. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I know. I get it.”

Phil relaxed under Dan’s arms, and Dan wasn’t surprised when Phil turned and returned the hug enthusiastically, his head fitting into Dan’s neck. There was another flash, an almost-not-there but felt real memory, of Dan and Phil dancing, their bodies pressed close together as rainbow lights played around them, Phil’s head pressed into Dan’s neck, biting into Dan’s neck as people surrounded them and Dan  _ letting him _ . Dan knew it had to be his mind playing tricks on him since Rebecca hadn’t even been allowed to press hickies into his neck after The Incident. Dan felt himself freeze up at the sudden, sharp reminder of The Incident and Phil pulled away, barely holding on to Dan. 

“Is...is this okay?” Phil asked, giving Dan’s body a slight squeeze.   
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Dan said nodding, rushing to reassure Phil it was fine. More than fine, great in fact. He liked the hug. “I just. My neck. I don’t like people touching my neck. Um...when I was younger, like two years ago, there was an incident and...and...”

Dan didn’t know how to continue. How to describe the feeling of the other boy’s hands around his neck, how his head felt hitting the coat peg, how scared he was, how-   
  
“Hey, you don’t have to talk about it unless you want to,” Phil said and Dan felt so pathetically grateful. This was the closest he had gotten to talking about the bullying to anyone that hadn’t witnessed it. He hadn’t even wanted to talk about it with Rebecca and that was his  _ girlfriend _ ; he hadn’t wanted her to know how weak he was. He looked up into Phil’s eyes and felt his heart rate increase as their eyes met. 

“T-thank you.”   
  
“Of course,” Phil said, giving Dan another squeeze before taking a step back. There was the smell of smoke in the air and Dan heard Phil curse. “Fuck.”   
  
Dan let out an overly dramatic gasp, clasping a hand over his still fast beating heart. “Philip Lester! Watch your mouth!” 

“Yes mum,” Phil said, his eyes roll nearly visible in his tone. Dan watched as Phil scooped the burnt piece of toast out of the frying pan and into the rubbish bin across the room. 

“More like dad after what I did to your mom last night,” Dan weakly joked, laughing louder at the absolutely disgusted face Phil made when he looked up from the rubbish bin.

“EW! Shut up!” Phil exclaimed, shoving at Dan’s shoulder with a pout on his face when he returned to the stove. 

“Okay. My mistake,” Dan agreed easily, waiting a beat before finishing his sentence. “Son.”

“Stop it, actually,” Phil groussed with another attempted shove to Dan’s shoulder as Dan jumped backwards from Phil, laughing. 

Yeah, Dan thought fondly as Phil began to talk about how burnt toast was the ruin of Western Civilization. Normalness could lead to sadness, only if one let it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	26. bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bar: A vertical line through the stave, to mark the music into sections, each with a set amount of beats within.
> 
> Dan rides a train “home” and debates if that’s a person, a place, or a feeling.

The words were swimming in front of his eyes. 

The words on the page were swimming in front of his eyes and Dan couldn’t remember learning this stuff the first time around, much less over the past few months while studying with Olly. He knows he did, but he couldn’t remember the difference between classical and operant conditioning. Was this going to be a big portion of his test? This was _basic shit_ , he should know this. This would probably be easier, wouldn’t even be an issue actually, if instead of failing the first time, he had actually ‘ _applied himself_ ’. Maybe he _had_ applied himself, maybe he was only as good as a failing grade.

He was probably going to fail again, he thought bitterly as the words started swimming again.

Dan looked at the clock on the nightstand and groaned when he saw it was already past midnight. He had to be up in less than four hours because he had scored some solo ice time that started at five. Fuck. He shut the notebook he had been staring at and rubbed at his eyes hard enough to make rainbow dots appear. He sighed and gently dropped the study materials on the floor at the side of his bed, where they had been living for the past week. He had one more day left of training and then he was taking a train back home to Wokingham for a week to sit his retake. While he was excited to see Nan, Mum, Granddad, Dad, and even, begrudgingly, Adrian, he couldn’t help but have nightmares every time his eyes closed about disappointing them and failing his A-Levels yet again. He would lose skating and then have to be… normal. 

_Normalness leads to sadness._

Dan sighed and grabbed the notebook back from the pile next to his bed, deciding that studying was the better alternative to failing. 

-

He regretted staying up the entire night a few hours later. He hadn’t ended up going to sleep, ignoring every piece of advice Lena had given him over the years. ‘ _Some sleep is better than no sleep,_ ’ he heard Lena’s voice mocking him as he flubbed another easy jump, a single toe loop. His movements were clumsy and unfocused, and Dan could feel Katie becoming less and less amused as their solo ice time went on. They were wasting the precious few hours they had of solo ice time on trying to clean up Dan’s lazy mistakes.

“Start again,” Katie called out across the ice. Dan had been excited for some solo ice time, even if he had to come in at five am, but after almost an hour, he remembered the downsides of private ice time (besides the high cost). Katie was incredibly focused on him, distracted by absolutely nothing else; Dan was honestly surprised she couldn’t hear his breathing somehow and give him critique on that as well. 

Not that it would hurt, Dan thought as he bent forward momentarily, breathing heavy at all the exertion. 

“Yes Katie,” Dan said before skating back to the center of the rink. He got into his starting position and he took in deep, calming breaths as Katie rewound the music for his Unravel program back to the beginning. He felt his shoulders relax and he stiffened them back up, not wanting Katie to go on a tangent about his posture _again_ this morning. He took another stabilizing breath as the music started, the now familiar notes of Unravel echoing through the empty rink. He took off and skated across the rink, his arms arching gracefully (hopefully, hopefully they looked graceful) as he prepared for his first jump, a triple axel. He heaved himself into the air as the music began to change to something harsh and desperate and landed on the first beat of the change, making an unattractive face as he landed, knowing he had underrotated the jump. 

The rest of the routine didn’t go much better. He kept under-rotating or over-rotating his jumps, his limbs felt heavy and unattractive, and even his sit spins (the thing he did the best) felt sloppy. Dan was too far away to make out Katie’s face to try and figure out what she was doing. She usually would stop him by now, demand he stop and restart or redo it, but instead she was quietly watching him.

When Dan finished, he nervously skated across the rink to Katie, stopping in front of her with a wince.

“I know that was bad,” Dan started as Katie held up a hand. She didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Dan, that was bad,” she said. “And I’m sorry I made you keep skating, but I needed you to realize something.”  
  
“That I’m doing bad?” Dan asked, feeling something come over his being. This was it. This is where he was dropped from the program. He’d be told to pack up his things and never darken the doorsteps of an ice skating rink again.

“Not that. I know you are very attuned to when you aren’t skating to your potential. It’s usually written all over your face, just like it is right now,” Katie said. “It was more...how do you feel right now?”  
  
“Horrible. Exhausted. Like I’m wasting everyone’s time and energy and...” Dan trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence. He looked away from Katie’s probing brown eyes and sighed. “I feel like I’m...stealing someone else’s life...”  
  
“I guess you’re feeling worse about something than I thought,” Katie sighed. “Because you aren’t wasting my energy. My time, a little, but this is how we grow. Now, we don’t have to have a heart to heart but if you want to tell me what’s bothering you, you can.”  
  
Dan bit the inside of his cheek before reaching up and pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’m going to fail my A-Level retest.”  
  
“Doubtful,” Katie said.

“I am,” Dan said. “Which means I won’t be able to keep skating.”  
  
“You won’t fail. Maybe not score high, but I doubt you’ll fail,” Katie said. 

Dan felt his eyebrows raise. “Thanks for the confidence boost, Katie.” 

“Not to compare you two but one of my students is, was, a real perfectionist,” Katie started, ignoring Dan’s smartass remark. “He’d make a mistake and restart the whole program during ice time. It was almost to the point of debilitating, even if he could afford the solo ice time. He used to focus so much on what he was doing wrong that he never saw all the improvement he was making. In the end he dropped from skating because he felt like he wasn’t getting better.”  
  
“Okay,” Dan said hesitantly, not sure where Katie was going with this. 

“You though, Dan... Your most common question to me is ‘how can I improve?’. And because of that, and all those Saturday sessions you’ve been putting in, I’m aware of them, Dan, you have improved since coming here. You really have. Does that sound like failure?”

“Well no, but-”

“Failure is the act of not even trying and you’ve proven that you will try anything once, even if it’s skating in a way to get a matching broken ankle to Philip Lester. So, I’m sending you home to bed to sleep and when you come back from _passing_ your A-Level, we can try this again. If you ever come to solo practice time and do what you did this morning, I will drop you though, understand?” Katie had her eyes narrowed, but Dan swore that he saw her lips twitch into the ghost of a smile.  
  
“Yes, I understand,” Dan said, standing up straight and skating over to the exit to the rink. “Sorry you woke up early for this.”  
  
“Oh, I’ve been here since 4 actually. Been working on a special project,” she said with a (very tired looking) smile before hiding a smile behind her hand. 

“Since four? What time did you leave here yesterday?”

“A little on the later side,” Katie admitted. “Around five.”  
  
“When do you sleep?”  
  
“Mostly when my partner forces me to,” she admitted in a rare case of sharing her personal life, but Dan could see the soft smile on her face as she talked about her partner. “They’re very demanding. Stubborn as hell too when they’ve got their mind fixed on an idea.” 

“Good for him,” Dan mumbled under his breath, feeling relief when Katie tipped her head back and laughed. 

“Yeah, _she_ ’s great.”

Dan felt the small smile he had been carrying freeze in place on his lips, felt like he couldn’t breathe. What were the chances, two people coming out to him over the course of a week? Was he becoming a magnet for gay people? Were they just seeking him just to come out to him? What was this fucking conspiracy? “O-oh?”  
  
“Yeah,” Katie said quietly but definitively. “She is.”  
  
“That’s great,” Dan replied, honestly meaning it.

“Great,” Katie said with a short nod. “Right, off with you. Enjoy your trip home Daniel.”

“I...I will. Enjoy your girlfriend,” Dan said before pausing and wishing the earth would swallow him whole. Enjoy your girlfriend? Who says that?

Katie either was used to Dan shoving his foot in his mouth or she was genuinely amused, because Dan could hear her laughing loudly from down the hall as he walked (no, he did not run, he didn’t) away.   
  


-

Dan didn’t remember much of the beginning of the train ride home. He had slept until about twenty minutes away from Reading, curled up uncomfortably in his small seat that was uncomfortable even when he wasn’t _trying_ to become small and warm. His legs were both a blessing and a curse. He woke up for his stop though, mainly because he had lolled to the side and rested his head on the businessman with a fancy suit and briefcase, who had roughly shaken him awake. Dan had apologized profusely but Fancy Businessman had rolled his eyes and gone back to angrily typing on his laptop. Dan was actually a little concerned about how his keyboard was doing with the sheer force he was using to type.

Dan sat up straight, rolling his shoulders back, and stretched out his legs, careful not to kick the chair of the woman sitting in front of him. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and smiled at the nearly a million (okay, three) texts that Phil had sent him while he had zonked out on the train. 

**[:Phil]:** _PJ almost smashed his face in2 the wall and lost a tooth_

 **[:Phil]:** _Daaaaaaaan_

 **[:Phil]:** _hey did you arrive home? Send pics!!_

Dan smiled at the texts, probably looking like a love besotted fool, which he felt like most of the time lately. He had taken to cuddling his pillow even more than usual and wondered if it was pathetic to ask for some of Phil’s expensive cologne for his birthday to spray his pillow with it. Barely a moment later, he shook his head because _yes Dan_ , that was pretty pathetic and borderline stalkerish. Phil didn’t see him like _that_ , didn’t even know that Dan liked men (and Phil in particular). They weren’t dating or doing a long distance relationship or...anything other than friendship. Which was fine! It was. It’s just that sometimes when Dan shut his eyes, he could just see himself swimming in blue blue blue and he had even briefly tried to think of how a pair skating of them would work. 

“Do you mind keeping it down?” A voice to Dan’s left asked and Dan realized he must have been mumbling out loud to himself. His leg was still bouncing up and down, almost like it was asking Dan why he wasn’t up pacing the train and trying to fix the ‘ _in love with his best friend_ ’ problem he had. Dan forced his leg to stop bouncing vigorously, confining himself to a subtle toe tap even as his leg was stiff with pent up energy.

“Ah, sure, of course, terribly sorry,” Dan said, clenching his hands into his lap. He heard Fancy Businessman mutter something under his breath but couldn’t make out the words; Dan was positive that it wasn’t kind. He bit his lip and turned his phone back on to respond to Phil. He read over his messages again before answering.

**[:Dan]:** _holy shit is he ok_

 **[:Dan]:** _and no not home yet_

 **[:Dan]:** _have this shitty selfie instead_

 **[:Dan]:** [Photo Attached: A grainy photo of Dan, leaned back again a train seat, hair covering part of his forehead, holding up the peace sign and sticking his tongue out at the camera]

Dan was pretty sure the muttering under Fancy Businessman’s breath was directed at him and _not_ the spreadsheet on his screen. But Dan was too on edge waiting for a response to try and reason with someone who thought a pink and red striped tie looked good. Dan didn’t hear back from Phil until they pulled into the Reading station. He let his phone burn in his pocket, a constant reminder of _PhilPhilPhil_ going through his head, until he got on the train that would take him to Wokingham. He got his backpack set on the seat next to him, hoping it wouldn’t end up being that full on the ride home and he wouldn’t end up with another Fancy Businessman sitting next to him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and felt himself give a slightly confused head tilt at the first text.

**[:Phil]:** _Arwf_

 **[:Phil]:** [Photo Attached: Phil, presumably hanging off the side of his bed as evident by his duvet cover in the corner of the picture, his tongue also striking out and his hair hanging out of frame.]

 **[:Phil]:** _pjs fine didn’t actually hit the wall_

_Arwf_? What did that mean? Was it a good or bad thing? Dan wished he had the data where he could pull up a google search on his phone and research what it meant. To be fair, maybe Dan was overthinking it; it could also just mean nothing, just a mistype or Phil being Phil. Dan shrugged it off as Phil sent him another text, giving him more details on PJ’s near traumatic landing that happened this morning. They texted as Dan rode back to Wokingham, Dan feeling the anxious knot of going back home loosen in his throat. By the time Dan pulled into the station, Dan was relaxed, even if there was a part of him that wished that Phil had been in the seat next to him instead of on a phone screen. 

He grabbed his backpack and pocketed his phone, stumbling off the train and on to the small platform. He hiked his backpack higher up his shoulder and walked to the front of the train station where his mom had said she’d be waiting. What if she forgot, what if she got the days wrong, what if she was at home working on her final paper and-

“Dan! Dan, over here!”  
  
Dan felt his shoulders relax as he heard his mom call out for him, a sullen Adrian standing by her side with his arms crossed over his chest. Christ, had Adrian gotten taller? It had only been a few months since he had last seen him. Seeing them standing there, waiting for him, gave Dan a feeling that he had been missing, the feeling of _family_. Sure, the rink up north had been welcoming and wonderful and better than anything in Dan’s wildest dreams, but he was in the place he had grown up and half of the part of his family he cared about were here. He jogged down the few steps in front of the station and resisted the urge to throw himself at his mom immediately. He stood still, waiting, until she threw her arms around him first and then returned her hug with gusto. He buried his face in her neck and breathed in her familiar perfume, feeling himself pretty much lean against her. He felt like he was five years old, coming home from primary school after a harrowing day and she was going to make it better with biscuits and letting him watch Winnie the Pooh for the millionth time.

“Are you okay bear?” His mom asked, pulling back and pressing a hand to Dan’s cheeks. “You’re so thin! Have you been eating enough? You look a bit peckish. Nan made a roast for tonight, that should help with that.”  
  
“Nan made a roast? But it’s Monday,” Dan blinked, feeling a little confused. “Nan only makes roasts on Sunday.” 

“Well, she made an exception.”  
  
“Yeah, a gross exception,” Adrian cut in.  
  
His mom rolled her eyes and turned back to Dan to explain, “He’s going through a vegetarian phase.”  
  
“Not a phase!” 

“You know Nan has salad made for you too, Adrian.”  
  
“I’m tired of salad; I want to try a tofu dog.”

“I’m not spending the money on tofu dogs. If you’re tired of the salads, you can eat what we’re making or you can get a job.”  
  
“Ugh, whatever,” Adrian muttered before turning and stomping off in the direction of mom’s car. Hopefully.

“God blessed me with two teenage sons and the strength to love them both,” Dan heard his mom mutter under her breath as she turned and followed Adrian. “Come along, Dan.”

  
“Coming,” Dan said, falling in step behind her and Adrian, watching them continue their argument with a smile on his face, happy (for the first time ever) to be in Wokingham. 

As soon as he sat down in the front seat of his mum’s car, she started telling him about what she had been up to since their last phone call about three weeks ago. Adrian occasionally let out a grunt when she mentioned anything about his life, whether it was in disgust or agreement, Dan couldn’t tell. They pulled up to his Nan’s house about fifteen minutes later and his Nan came flying out the door, like she had been waiting with her face pressed up against the window, wearing an apron they had bought her eons ago. She was pulling him into a hug the second his feet were firmly on the ground outside of the car.

“Daniel!”

“Nan! Careful, you’re going to break me,” Dan said with a laugh as he returned his nan’s tight hug. For some reason this felt more like coming home than the hug from his mom had. Maybe it’s because he was standing in the front yard of the place he had spent a vast majority of his childhood playing. If he concentrated long enough, he could make out small tire tracks in the grass, probably from Adrian, but Dan could pretend they were from his own bike for a moment. There was the tree he had climbed when he was younger, always looking down at Adrian and warning him not to do it because it was too dangerous.

(Adrian did try climbing the tree and Dan remembers being an odd combination of unbearably smug and absolutely worried about his brother breaking his arm. God, he had been a _cunt_ after he had started primary school.)

“Good, then you’ll have to move back,” his nan said with a teasing grin, but she did take a step back, keeping her hands on his upper arms. “George! Daniel’s here!”  
  
“I know, Anne. I think the whole neighborhood knows with the way you two are carrying on,” his grandpa groused as he walked into the room and gave Dan a tight hug. “How was the trip down?”  
  
“Boring,” Dan said, inhaling the faint smell of tobacco and wood shavings from his grandfather’s workshop. “I slept most of the time.”  
  
“That’s good. That means you’ve been working hard,” his grandfather said, pulling back and gripping his upper arm, teasingly feeling for muscles. “Well I’ll be damned-”  
  
“Language, George!”  
  
“Anne, Karen, have you felt his arms? He’s actually put some muscles on for once!”

“I’ve always had muscles,” Dan mumbled under his breath.  
  
“Not like these? Why, you could build a house with these!”  
  
“Oh George,” Nan said, hovering over his grandfather’s shoulder and feeling Dan’s arm up alongside his grandfather. “Huh. He did get a bit...hench? Is that the right word Dan?”  
  
“Yes, Nan,” Daniel said with a nervous laugh, looking everywhere but in his nan’s eyes. He just couldn’t bring himself to after hearing his nan use new, _modern_ slang; she still used sayings that were cool _before_ Churchill. “How did you hear that word, Nan?”  
  
“Oh, Adrian used it the other day. He wants to become hench,” his mom cut in from where she was sitting in the armchair. “Or was it swol?”  
  
They needed to stop saying these things, Dan thought with a small amount of horror. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and resisted the urge to whip it out and immediately answer. “I’m going to go put my bag down, is that fine?”  
  
“Yes, yes, of course! Dinner should be ready soon, just have to make the gravy.”  
  
“Don’t forget my salad, Nana,” Adrian said from the couch he had dramatically sprawled on. 

“As soon as you get your dirty shoes off my furniture young man! We don’t live in a barn!” Dan watched as Adrian huffed but did as Nan said. Dan made sure to walk by Adrian and mess up his hair. He had asked him to be _nice_ to Nan, not mess up her furniture, which always put her out of sorts. 

“Hey! Stop it you asshole!”

“Only when you stop being an asshole!” Dan said in a singsong voice, letting out an oof as one of Adrian’s fists made contact with his side.  
  
“Language, boys!”

Dan and Adrain stuck out their tongues at each other, but Dan didn’t retaliate beyond that, scared of completely ruining this trip home too early in his stay. Plus, they stayed in the same room; he didn’t want to be suffocated in his sleep. Dan trotted off, listening with brotherly glee as Adrian got a lecture from his nan and mum about language in the house. He found his way to Adrian’s and his room but walking in, it didn’t _feel_ like his room anymore. Adrian hadn’t decorated beyond putting up a few posters, but as Dan stood in the room, he longed for a smaller room back north with brown walls and a single bed instead of a bunk bed. Dan looked at the bunk bed and realized with a start that Adrian had moved himself to the bottom bunk. He sighed but leaned his backpack gently against the side of the bunk bed before greedily pulling his phone from his jeans to check his messages.

**[:Phil]:** _daaaaaaan  
_ **[:Phil]:** _dan dan dan_

 **[:Dan]:** _what_

 **[:Phil]:** _hi :3_

 **[:Dan]:** _hi :3_

 **[:Dan]:** _give me a second and i’ll send photos of colin_

 **[:Phil]:** _the dog!?_

 **[:Phil]:** _no i need them NOW dan_

Dan felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he exited the room, going back out to the living room, where Colin was laid out on his side in all of his shaggy haired glory. He saw Dan coming and let his tail give a few thumps against the floor. Dan opened up the camera on his phone and took a few shots before sending the best one to Phil.

“Who are you chatting with?” His mom asked from the armchair, where she had a highlighter in one hand and a notebook in the other.  
  
“Oh, just Phil,” Dan said, smiling down at his phone. What was his life, being able to say he texted _Phil Lester_ casually enough to call him ‘just Phil’.

“Oh, the one with the broken foot, right? It’s healed up now? Kathryn’s son?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s him,” Dan said. “He wanted to see Colin.”

“I’m glad you made some friends up there,” his mom said. 

“Yeah, you looked mad pathetic here, all friendless,” Adrian said, not looking up from his own phone. 

“How are your roommates? PJ and Chris?” His mom continued like she hadn’t heard Adrian’s remark. 

“They’re good. PJ almost crashed into a wall earlier,” Dan said with a grin. “It was quite dramatic, according to Phil. Like he was going to slam his face into the wall but he put his hands out at the last second and didn’t.”

“Hmmmm,” his mom hummed in acknowledgement. 

“I dared Robbie to eat a bug the other day,” Adrian said. 

“What the fuck?”  
  
“Language, Daniel,” his mom said, sounding tired.

“Why would you do that?”  
  
“Dunno, seemed funny.”

“....did he do it?”  
  
“Yeah. Ate a worm.”  
  
“ _Sick._ ”  
  
“I’ll say,” his mom muttered, aggressively highlighting something in the notebook. 

The look of disgust made Dan laugh and he moved as quickly as possible to photograph it, sending the photo to Phil with the caption ‘my mom’ without trying to think too hard about it; Phil had said to send photos earlier. These would be okay, right? He looked at Adrian who was slowly melding into one with the couch and took a picture of him too, captioning it with ‘Adrian’. He moved into the kitchen where his grandparents were quietly talking, his Nan stirring the beginning of some gravy in a pot while his grandfather sat in a chair nearby working on a Sudoku puzzle book. He took a snapshot of them talking and sent it to Phil with a ‘nan and popsie’. 

“Oh, Dan,” his grandmother said, looking up from her stirring at the camera click. “I don’t look presentable.”  
  
Dan shrugged. “It’s fine. They aren’t going to _The Sun_ or anything.”

“I should hope not. Have you washed your hands?”  
  
“Not not yet,” Dan said as he walked across the small room and washed his hands quickly. 

“What are your plans for the week?” His grandfather asked from his spot at the table. 

“Hopefully catch up on some sleep,” Dan said. “Study. Take my A-Level.”  
  
“We are very proud of you for retaking them, dear,” Nan cut in. 

“Thanks Nan.”

“Would you be a lamb and set the table?”

“Of course,” Dan said, going through the familiar motions of opening cabinets and drawers to set the table. He set the table and sat down next to his grandfather, watching him fill in the tiny boxes with amusement.  
  
“Maybe you should call a few friends and see if they want to spend some time together?” his Nan offered.

“Maybe,” Dan agreed quietly, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Most of his friends from college had gone off to uni after graduation so the chances of them being home for the weekend were slim. Plus he couldn’t remember the last time he had said anything more substantial than ‘haha’ in the group chat in months. He’d much rather go and hang out with Phil...and PJ and Chris, he amended. 

“I think it would be good to go out and celebrate,” his grandfather offered. 

“Popsie, I’m not doing anything spectacular. I’m just resitting my exam,” Dan tried to argue. 

“Just think about it,” Nan cut in, before licking the spoon that had been stirring the gravy. “Oh, this is good. Peppery.”

His grandfather and him hummed in acknowledgement. Dan jumped as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out after waiting a few seconds, trying to push down the giddy feeling in his chest.

**[:Phil]:** _tell them all i say hello_

 **[:Phil]:** _or is that weird_

 **[:Phil]:** _are they happy you’re back?_

 **[:Dan]:** _yeah i think they are_

 **[:Dan]:** _except adrian keeps looking like he’d rather kill me_

 **[:Phil]:** _sleep with one eye open howell. can’t trust younger brothers_

 **[:Dan]:** _so i can’t trust you D :_

 **[:Phil]:** _nope xD_

“You kids and your phones,” he heard his grandfather mumble but he was too busy devouring the words coming in from Phil. 

“Phil says hello,” Dan said offhandedly. 

“Phil?” His grandfather furrowed his brow in confusion. “Have I met Phil?”  
  
“No, he’s one of my friends from up north.”  
  
“Oh, what a sweet boy! I want to meet this Phil. You talk about him so much on the phone. You should bring him next time, we have plenty of room. The couch folds out into a bed, we could set up Adrian up there and you boys could use the bunk bed,” his nan said. 

“I’ll ask him,” Dan said quietly, his stomach flipping. Did he really talk about Phil that much? Was he being that obvious about how he felt? 

“Wonderful. Go get your brother and your mum love. Dinner’s ready,” Nan said, turning and looking at the table. She walked over and patted Dan’s cheek. “Oh, it’s so good to have you home bear.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s nice,” Dan agreed, for once, not lying about how he felt about being in Wokingham. Had he overinflated how much he hated Wokingham? Had he imagined how bad it had been? Well, he thought as he went to go get his mom and Adrian from the living room, he had a week to figure that out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I have an exciting announcement! In order to celebrate both 5,000 hits and 100,000 words, I’m working on a little contest for this fic. Link to the contest information can be found[here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/post/636490027463016448). So far I have received two absolutely adorable entries and I can’t wait to see more! 
> 
> Thank you profusely for helping me hit these milestones; none of it would be possible without readers like you. <3 <3
> 
> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


	27. a piacere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a piacere: At pleasure (i.e. the performer need not follow the rhythm strictly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I did update the tags specifically for this chapter. There is some mildly dubious consent/ drunken consent that takes place towards the end of this chapter, starting at the line “What do you think- mmph.” and continues until “You wanna go get a drink?”. If you want a brief summary of what happens during this piece, don’t hesitate to message me. You won’t be missing much plot wise but it is there for The Flavor TM.

God, Dan’s eyes were burning again. They had been burning all week with his extensive cramming. He couldn’t get away with doing half-ass studying either, with his mum working at the kitchen table with him on her own final papers, occasionally asking him questions about what he was doing. But she was taking an exam today, nan was grocery shopping, grandad was in the shed, and Adrian was fucking off with some friends. This was the first day he had been “alone” since he had returned to Wokingham. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and sighed, looking back down at his textbook. He looked over to the side where his laptop sat. He looked between his notes and his laptop a few times before opening his laptop and setting it on top of his notebooks. Surely he deserved a wee break, right?

He booted up his laptop and checked Facebook, surprised to see Robert, someone he had hung out with in college, was home for the weekend. His post said that there was a party and everyone who could read the post was invited. They hadn’t been close friends, not like Phil, PJ, and Chris were, but Dan wouldn’t be opposed to hanging out with him after his test tomorrow. Hell, Gran had actively encouraged it and now his mum was joining in. Maybe getting out of the house for the night would do him some good, stop the silently suffocating feeling that had been creeping over him for days. He liked the post and figured he would message for the address later, if he decided to go. 

He opened up Skype and felt his mood brighten when he saw Phil was online, the green dot looking positively heavenly. They had exchanged Skype usernames a few days ago over text and when Dan was using his laptop to cross reference notes, he would covertly message Phil on there, glad it was a little more instantaneous than text (and not as expensive). He’s pretty sure it wasn’t that good of a secret, having forgotten to mute the messaging sound a few times and having to deal with his mum’s stern glare. 

**[danisnotonfyah]:** _ my eyes are going to fall out if i look at this book one more fucking time _

**[danisnotonfyah]:** _ s2g mate _

**[amazing!phil]:** _ oh like that monster from pan’s labyrinth  _

**[danisnotonfyah]:** _ idk never seen it _

**[amazing!phil]:** __ **Connecting...**

Dan panicked and immediately ran his finger through his hair to try and get it to lay down flat. He looked down at his shirt and cursed, noticing a huge spaghetti sauce stain on the collar that had never come out. Should he just do this Skype call shirtless? 

“What do you mean you’ve never seen  _ Pan’s Labyrinth _ , Howell?”   
  
“Oh, I’m Howell now?” Dan teased, propping his chin on his two hands and staring into the webcam. Phil was laying sideways with a huge shirt that hung down low enough to show off his collarbone. “Did you miss going to practice today?”   
  
“No, I went earlier,” Phil said, causing Dan to look at the clock and furrow his eyes in confusion when he saw the time. It was only nine; he usually stayed at the rink until noonish. Just how early did Phil  _ go _ ? __

“Oh,” Dan said dumbly. “Are you part of that project Katie’s been working on?”   
  
“Project?”   
  
“The one where she’s been at the rink at four am,” Dan said. “She looked exhausted the last time I saw her.”   
  
“Oh, yeah, it’s part of that,” Phil said, squirming a little, looking embarrassed. He rubbed the side of his neck as he answered, turning the pale skin a light pink. Dan wished for a moment he had put that spot there. “Yeah, mom asked her to help sort out some stuff at the rink. Clean up a bit.”   
  
“Oh,” Dan said, looking confused. Why would Phil be embarrassed about that? “Yeah she was tired. Told me about how her...partner? girlfriend? put her to bed. Hey, did you know she was queer too?”

“Oh,” Phil replied, blinking. “Yeah, I knew about her being...you know...queer.” 

“What’s in the water up there?” Dan joked and immediately felt bad when Phil didn’t laugh back in return. “Phil? I’m sorry, that wasn’t-”

“No, it’s fine,” Phil said quietly, obviously not fine. He wouldn’t meet Dan’s eyes and he felt a stone settle in his stomach. 

“I didn’t mean anything  _ bad _ by that joke,” Dan said, not wanting Phil to be upset. Besides, Dan really hadn’t meant anything bad by that statement. He had simply been trying to joke around about the fact that he went from knowing zero queer people up there to two over the course of a week. “I didn’t-”

“Dan, it’s fine,” Phil said with a sigh, looking towards the door. His eyes narrowed like he was listening for something. “Hey, uh, my mum’s calling for me.”   
  
Dan felt his stomach drop out from under him, stone and all. He had a pretty good connection and he couldn’t hear Kathryn’s voice at all in the background. “Oh...okay. Um, we’ll talk later? I guess?”   
  
“Yeah, sure,” Phil said, sounding distracted. He was squirming again, not meeting Dan’s eyes. “Talk to you later.”   
  
He gave Dan a small wave and hung up, a cheerful smile missing from his face.The cheerful beeps of a disconnecting call echoed in the silent kitchen.

Fuck. 

He leaned forward into his palms and let out a loud exhale, shutting his eyes. He took a moment to sit there and absorb where he was, how he was home and everything was fine. It was stale comfort in the face of Phil being upset, how he wouldn’t meet Dan’s eyes, how quickly he had left the Skype call. He wished he was up North so he could explain it to Phil better, make Phil understand how he wasn’t rejecting Katie, how he wasn’t rejecting _ Phil  _ (like that was possible, like Dan could ever reject Phil). Or, Dan thought, it probably would have never come up, which might have been better. He let out another, louder, sigh before reaching out and shutting the lid of his laptop, probably a little harder than necessary.

He had to get back to studying. Then he could fix this.

-

The next morning saw Dan staring blankly at the essay form of his A-Levels. He needed to do this first since this would take the most time and then he could go back and answer the multiple choice questions quickly. He was good at that. What he wasn’t good at, however, was the essay portion. He could write beautiful essays when he was given more than a few measly hours. He knows this material, he  _ does _ . He knows the material but he was blanking on how to answer this stupid question. Fuck.

(Phil hadn’t messaged him back.)   
  
(Phil was mad at him.)

(No Dan, time to  _ focus _ . On the test. Not on Phil.)

Tick, tick, tick, tick. The clock was counting down the time, each tick grating of Dan’s nerves as each second passed and he wasn’t writing his essay. 

Okay, time to start writing. He had to write something. Something was better than nothing, right? Maybe he should plan it out first? No, no, he didn’t have enough time for that, he had wasted too much time jst staring at the blank, lined paper. He was going to have so many scribbled out words since he had brought a pen and not a pencil. It was going to smear, none of these fucking booklets were made with left-handed people in mind. Hopefully he wouldn’t lose points for each scribbled out word or sentence. Dan took a deep breath and began to write. 

He wrote and wrote and wrote, coming up for air when he was halfway done with his essay, cursing under his breath when he saw the time. He wrote faster and faster, a lot of the words looking smudged and ugly but he finished the essay. He flipped rapidly through the multiple choice section and felt a pressure growing behind his forehead, words swirling together and shifting. When he finished that, he went back to the essay portion and started proofreading, figuring it wouldn’t hurt. 

He nearly cried in relief when the proctor announced time was up. His heart was beating like he had just worked out, like he had just been running, but it was off-beat of the clock that was still ticking. He slumped down in the uncomfortable school chair and quietly thanked the proctor as he collected his paperwork. There were only a few people in his room, so they were dismissed quickly. 

Dan walked out of the room and went to the bathroom, letting out a shuddering breath as he sat down on the toilet. He didn’t need to use the restroom, he just needed a second to breathe, to decompress. He took a few deep breaths. 

God, he wished he could go skating. But the rink was closed, signs about its impending demolition put out in front of it. He wondered briefly if his key would still work. But since skating and Phil were so intertwined in his head, when the thought of breaking into the rink left his head, he pulled out his phone, expecting to see something there from Phil.

One new message from mom, wishing him luck and asking what he wanted for lunch.

A string of emojis from Lena. 

No new messages from Phil.

(Fuck, he didn’t have anything to focus on now.)   
  
(Nothing to focus on but disappointed blue eyes and hurried goodbyes.)

He pocketed his phone and left the bathroom after staring at his black phone screen for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. Well, there was one way to both celebrate and cure heartbreak at the same time, Dan thought, remembering the post from Facebook. 

Alcohol, and plenty of it.

-

Dan had honestly thought this was just going to be a small get together. The circle of people that he had hung out with at school had been small and he assumed theirs had been too, because if they were desperate enough to hang out with him,  _ surely _ they were hurting for friends. He figured there would be like 10 people  _ max _ . They’d sit in Robert’s living room and pass around a bottle of cheap vodka, chat about the past year, something simple. But when Dan walked up to Robert’s house, he noticed the street was absolutely packed with cars. The house seemed to vibrate with the strength of the radio, a noise citation waiting to happen, even this far on the outskirts of Wokingham. Dan actually felt electric, walking into the house, not recognizing anyone upon walking in. This night could actually go okay, hidden in anonymity. He looked around, unfamiliar with the layout of the house, waiting until he saw someone with a drink. 

“Hey!” he shouted loudly, his heart pounding nervously for some reason. But he tried to relax as he remembered that this was a girl; girls had never teased him or beaten him up. He’d be fine. The girl looked at him, raising an eyebrow. She was pretty. Not Bekah pretty, but she had short brown hair in a pixie cut and a smattering of freckles across her nose. “Where’d you get that?” he asked, pointing at the bright, red cup in her hand. 

The girl seemed to get the gist and she pointed behind her before scurrying off to join a group of girls in the corner, looking back at Dan over her shoulder, a hand coming up to cover her mouth, obviously laughing. He picked nervously at his shirt collar, now feeling overly scrutinized in his torn, black skinnies and a MCR shirt he had picked up from Hot Topic. Emo wasn’t that dead, was it? Great, a new record for self doubt: one minute. He let out a defeated sigh before he made his way through the crowds of people towards, hopefully, the kitchen.

He blinked in surprise at the insanely crowded kitchen. People were shoved in closer than sardines (which, ew, sardines) around the table, where few people were playing beer pong. Dan watched in amusement until someone shoved into his shoulder and apologized loudly in his rapidly going deaf ear. 

“SORRY ABOUT YOUR DRINK. LEMME GRAB YOU A NEW ONE,” the guy shouted in his ear. Dan went to protest, because he hadn’t had a drink to begin with but the protest died on his mouth as he looked into the guys pretty blue eyes. Not as cool as Phil’s but still a pretty blue. And he didn’t appear to be drunk; he just was loud.

“Thanks!” Dan shouted back instead. The guy gave him a lopsided smile before disappearing into the crush of the crowd. Dan turned back, letting out a weak cheer as a ball landed in one of the plastic cups. Maybe that would be the fastest way to get drunk, join in the beer pong group? He just had to hope the other team had better aim than he did. He jumped when someone touched his upper arm and Dan let himself smile for what felt the first time all day when he saw Blue Eyes there, holding two cups. Their hands brushed as he handed Dan his drink.

“Thanks! Dan!!” he shouted, pointing at himself. 

“Andrew!” The other guys shouted back, pointing at himself. “WAIT! You’re that ice skater, right!?”   
  
Dan winced already looking around for an escape, that pleasant electric feeling from earlier feeling like a cattle prod of fear. Finding none, he took a big gulp of the lukewarm beer and nodded. “That’s me!”   
  
“Dude, you’re, like, famous!”   
  
Dan raised an eyebrow. This ought to be good he thought, taking another large gulp of his beer. He wasn’t drunk enough to be dealing with this this early in the evening. Wasn’t drunk enough for this year really. “News to me!”

Andrew laughed before clinking his glass against Dan’s in a frankly endearing way. “To famous poofs!” He was laughing as he said it, like it was some great joke.   
  
There went that endeared feeling. Dan felt his stomach drop out from under him and he’s pretty sure he smiled but he muttered out an ‘excuse me’, pretended to wave at someone, and walked by Andrew the Asshole to find somewhere else in the kitchen to hang out. He was relieved that he didn’t put a hand on Dan’s shoulder to hold him in place or anything to continue their ‘conversation’. It wouldn’t be the first time he tried this trick and the bully caught on faster than he’d like.   


But, it could have gone worse he thought bitterly as he looked at the array of alcohol sitting on the counter limited counter space… God, he knew there was a reason he hated Wokingham. Sure, there were probably homophobes and bullies and generally shitty people up in Sheffield, but it wasn’t like Dan had had to deal with any of them in a while. It was like he had been trapped in a dream world up there and now he was waking up in a nightmare. He rubbed the side of his neck, feeling a phantom pressure on it, before grabbing the only recognizable bottle of rum (surely he couldn’t go wrong with Captain Morgan) he could see and pouring a more than healthy dose into his cup before looking around for some soda. There were only empty bottles laying at Dan’s feet. Figures they would be out of mixers. Dan sighed, looking into the cup of dark liquid, realizing he had poured the rum into the remainder of his piss warm beer. He huffed and looked around before taking a drink, making a disgusted face into his cup. He took another gulp anyway. It would be rude to waste liquor like that. 

He turned and looked towards the living room where people were dancing to the Black Eyed Peas with abandon. He saw the girl from earlier towards the edge of the crowd. He took another bracing drink, swallowing gulp after gulp of the terrible mixture. He looked around and saw everyone cheering for the ping pong players. He hadn’t even seen Robert yet and he already wanted to leave.

(He still hadn’t heard from Phil, his phone silent and mocking and heavy in his pocket.)   
  
Obviously that meant he needed to get more drunk, he thought, pouring more rum into the cup, spilling over the top a little. He retreated to a corner and slowly sipped at the disgusting cocktail in his cup, people watching for a little longer. He felt himself getting warmer, the longer he stood inside the house, a mixture of the crush of bodies and the alcohol warming his chest. God, he should just leave. What was he doing here? 

He was crushing the red cup in his hand, drinking the last drops of his mixture, when he jumped, someone having wrapped a hand around his wrist. It was the pretty girl from earlier. 

“Hey,” she yelled loudly in his face. “Wanna dance with us?”   
  
Dan wanted to resist; he was going to leave after all. But there was something in the girl’s eyes (and probably the warming feeling in his chest) that made him shrug. One dance wouldn’t hurt. He could leave after one song. “Sure!”

It was fun, if a little stiff. It was so fun that one song turned into three and pixie cut girl (Kayley, Kayley, he reminded himself) and her friends dragged him off to take shots. Kayley licked over his wrist so he could pour salt on it and Dan felt a flush of heat he hadn’t felt for a girl in...in a while. Dan felt himself flush more and more as he consumed more shots, but he was relaxing. He didn’t feel the need to run home anymore, he felt safe with this gaggle of girls. They went back to dancing, the group of them. Dan moved from the outskirts of the dance floor to the middle, wanting to see if the lights still spun in a different part of the dance floor. He was surprised when someone’s large hands landed on his hips. Maybe a girl. He turned and blinked as Andrew the Asshole grinning at him. 

Not a girl.

“Found you!”   
  
He wasn’t aware they had been playing hide and seek. Dan wanted to step back but Andrew’s hands were so warm on his hips. Not like Phil’s cold hands, the ones that would touch Dan’s shoulders or tug on his sleeve and brush his fingers against Dan’s arm. 

(Phil was warm in bed though, cuddled up to Dan and-)

“Yeah! You did! You found me, haha,” Dan said with a laugh, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure who was playing on the radio but the beat was slow. Why did all popular songs have lyrics? This song would be so fun to skate to if only it didn’t have lyrics. He looked around and saw most of the people dancing had paired off. Some of the couples were girls swaying slowly together, rocking back and forth like the sea. That looked nice. He didn’t even realize him and Andrew were swaying here in the middle of the crowd, both exposed and covered at the same time.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Andrew said, leaning in close to Dan’s ear. Dan felt himself shiver, the warmth of Andrew’s breath close to his ear. He felt another pool of warmth in his stomach as Andrew’s tongue brushed against his earlobe before pulling away. Hmmm...why had he thought this guy was an asshole again? Oh, he had called him a poof. That’s right. Well, maybe he wanted to apologize? Dan felt too warm in the pit. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dan breathed out, nodding his head, following Andrew out of the center of the dance pit. He waved at Kayley and her friends as he walked past but they were too busy laughing and jumping around as the next song started up to notice him. He was glad they were having a good time, they had been so nice. 

He shivered slightly as he followed Andrew outside and down the side of the house where there was no one around. Not even any smokers. Granted, the house smelled of ash and the skunky scent of weed, so maybe nobody was out here because the house was free game. Robert was going to have a hard time airing out his house. But whatever Andrew wanted to talk about must have been very important if he was looking for somewhere secluded. Must have been an apology or...

Dan felt the hair on his arms start to stand up, a moment of clarity piercing through his inebriated brain. Andrew had called him a poof earlier. Maybe Andrew was about to beat the shit out of him. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, he thought as Andrew crowded him against the side of the house. This was it, this is how he died. Getting his ass handed to him at a party in Wokingham.

(He would never get to win a gold, he would never get to tell Phil he liked boys, liked  _ Phil _ \- )

“What do you think-  _ mmph _ .”

_ Oh.  _

Oh, Dan thought as Andrew pressed his lips more firmly against Dan’s. 

This was a surprise. Not...unpleasant. Just not what Dan was expecting. Dan was scared to kiss back though, not sure if this was some kind of test. He had been tested like this before, once, after tutorials and had ended up with a black eye right before a competition. If the poof kisses back, he gets his ass handed to him, because he was trying to turn the straight guys queer. Andrew drew back, his eyes scanning Dan’s face. God, Andrew was kinda fit, Dan thought, barely breathing, not wanting to startle him. At least he was going to die having kissed a guy that was a solid seven.

(Phil was a ten, he was a fifteen, he was out of Dan’s  _ league _ )

Andrew let out a chuckle. Dan closed his eyes, bracing for the impact of Andrew’s fist. He thought he had done good, he hadn’t kissed back. 

“I’m not that bad of a kisser, am I?” Andrew muttered.

“Oh. No,” Dan said, letting his eyes slowly open to scan Andrew’s face back. He looked concerned, at least he hoped it was concern and not his brain playing tricks on him. “I mean. Not at all.”   
  
“Oh, good. I. Is this okay?”   
  
“What?”   
  
“The kissing. Is it okay?”

“Oh. Um.”   
  
“It’s okay if it’s not. Just wanted to have some fun,” Andrew said, breaking the eye contact he had with Dan to look off to the side.   


Dan took in what was happening. His head was a little spinny but he was standing (well, leaning) upright against a house as a fit bloke wanted to kiss him. Wanted to kiss him and more than likely wasn’t going to beat him up afterwards. It could be worse. Wasn’t the first time he had kissed a bloke. Besides, he thought as he swayed forward, he hadn’t gotten any action since the mystery hickey girl in London. 

(Something new to focus on, something new to help him forget.)   
  
“I. Sure. Just some fun,” Dan agreed, swaying forward and pressing his lips against Andrew’s. Andrew didn’t pull away, just leaned into the kiss, crowding Dan as close as possible into the wall until Dan had to tip his head up to connect their lips. Andrew shivered as Dan ran his hands hesitantly up his back and tangled his fingers into his hair. It was sloppy, more teeth than the soft kisses Dan remembers sharing with Bekah. It was like he was fifteen in the park with his emo friends again, desperate to know if he liked boys or girls better, drunkenly kissing everyone he could possibly kiss. 

(He remembered the thud of the club, the music loud, as him and someone with cold hands exchanged kisses in a grimey bathroom)

Dan panted against Andrew’s lips when they separated minutes later. Dan pressed forward again, trying to go back to kissing, back to forgetting pretty blue-green-yellow eyes and cold hands. His thigh pressed firmly against Andrew’s groin as they shifted for a better angle and they both groaned into the barely there space between their lips.

“Fuuuuck,” Andrew moaned, pressing forward and reconnecting their lips fiercely, grinding down against Dan’s thigh.   
  
“Fuck, yeah,” Dan said, grinding forward and feeling himself smile at the way Andrew’s head dropped against his shoulder and he shuddered. This was heady, this power he had right now. He shivered with it, wanted  _ more _ .

“Wanna...wanna touch you,” Andrew mumbled as his warm hands dropped from Dan’s shoulder to hold on to his hips, a thumb pressing under Dan’s shirt to rub against bare skin. Dan felt his skin light up like he had licked a battery, warm and precise, hyper aware of the pad of Andrew’s finger against his hip bone.

“You are touching me,” Dan giggled. 

“No, touch you more,” Andrew said, dragging a hand further up Dan’s shirt. Dan shivered and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dan said, his own hands going up the back of Andrew’s shirt, digging his nails into Andrew’s back as Andrew’s hand pressed over his chest, over his heart. 

(Could Andrew hear how it beat  _ Phil _ with every beat?)

“It’s beating so fast,” Andrew muttered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Dan’s lips. Dan leaned into the kiss, desperate and half-hard in his skinnies. It really had been a while since someone else had touched him. 

(Phil had touched him, had lit him up from the inside, had-)   


Andrew’s hand moved away from his chest and gripped Dan through his skinnies. Once, twice, and again as Dan’s head tipped back and cracked against the wall. Dan whimpered from both the pain blooming in the back of his head and the hand cupping him. 

“Fuck, you okay?”   
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Dan responded. “Just feels good. Like your hands.”   
  
“Yeah, hands are great,” Andrew said, with a laugh as he continued to massage Dan through the rough denim. Oh, did he want Dan to touch him too? Dan could do that. He wiggled a hand forward, slipping it in the slight gap between Andrew’s ‘normal’ jeans and his wiry-haired stomach. He wrapped a hand around Andrew and oh, Andrew was warm  _ everywhere _ , even through his underwear.

“Oh, fuck,” Andrew said, he head dropping back to Dan’s shoulder. He tilted his head and pressed a kiss to Dan’s neck before sucking on it, like he was rewarding Dan’s fumbling handling of his cock. Dan wanted to pull away, didn’t want Andrew touching his neck, but he didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to think. Dan squeezed and he could feel the way Andrew’s dick was stiffening more in his hand, the precum was gathering against the fabric of his pants. Dan wanted to touch more,  _ be _ touched more, not be touched less.

(wanted to forget.)

“Touch me more,” Dan mumbled. 

“I will, yeah, yeah,” Andrew said, clumsily trying to undo Dan’s skinnies one handedly without removing his face from Dan’s neck. Dan laughed until Andrew bit him and Dan was back in Phil’s bedroom with Phil biting his arm and then back to the club and the dream versions of him and Phil dancing to Toxic and kissing someone with cold hands in a dingy club bathroom. But those were dreams, half-remembered memories, fantasies, while Andrew was here and  _ oh so warm _ . There was no comparison.

(Dream Phil won. Every version of Phil won, won and took gold and shined so bright-)

Dan whined and went to pull his hand away to help when Andrew let out a quiet, triumphant sound as he slid the zip of Dan’s skinnies down. He snaked his hand inside Dan’s pants and contorted his hand to grip around Dan. Dan let out a punched out gasp and gripped Andrew back, moving his hand again. 

“Fuck how do you breathe in these?” Andrew mumbled and Dan laughed. 

“Practice,” Dan mumbled back and Andrew nipped his bottom lip in response. 

“Mouthy lil’ thing aren’t you?”   
  
“Mhmmm,” Dan agreed. He wanted to pull his pants down lower, let Andrew get a better grip on him. “One sec. Can’t breathe.”   
  
“Okay, okay,” Andrew laughed, not removing his hand or making any movement towards stepping away. Dan laughed back and gently pressed against Andrew’s chest before shimming his jeans down to his mid thigh. He let out a shiver as the cold spring air curled around his thighs. 

“You too,” Dan said and blinked against the dream/hope of him and Phil doing this in a grimey club bathroom. God he was sloshed. And horny. And sad. He was honestly surprised he could maintain his erection with the sadness sitting low in his stomach.

“Yeah,” Andrew said, tugging on his slightly too big pair of jeans until Dan could see pale blue in the moonlight. Dan reached forward and ran a few fingers against the hard line in Andrew’s briefs, taking glee in the fact that he had to take a shuddered breath at Dan’s touch. “Yeah.”   
  
If Dan had thought their kissing earlier had been violent, he needed to reassess his definition. It was nothing compared to the biting and hard grip on his hip as Andrew wanked him with his other hand, hand pressed inside Dan’s briefs and too dry against him. When Dan reciprocated, running a finger over the tip of Andrew’s dick, wanting to make it wet, make it have less friction, Andrew bit Dan’s neck, muffling a moan even as Bruno Mars blared loudly from the radio inside. 

It didn’t take long for Andrew to come. He was quiet, muffled in Dan’s neck, shuddering and shivering as Dan wanked him through it, until he was too sensitive and was pushing against Dan’s shoulder in defeat. Dan desperately thrusted into Andrew’s lax hand and Andrew let out a quiet chuckle. 

“Relax, I won’t leave you hanging,” Andrew said as he began to stroke Dan, still too dry. 

(Dan had a moment of a dream, of licking Phil’s hand, giggling and telling him it would be super wet now before Phil touched his dick.)   
  
Dan shut his eyes back and just tried to enjoy the first boy’s hand on his dick that wasn’t his own. Dan eventually came, even though it was too dry, but it wasn’t as satisfying as when he came on his own, feeling like a quiet pop than a bang. Getting off with a guy in person was not as life changing as he thought it would be. 

“Thanks for that,” Andrew said, wiping his hand off on Dan’s briefs. Dan watched him pull his pants and jeans back up through half-lidded eyes. 

“No problem,” Dan mumbled before following suit and leaning back against the wall of the house. 

“You wanna go get a drink?”

  
“No thank you,” Dan mumbled, tipping his head back. 

(He wanted to talk to Phil.)   
  
“I uh, need to make a call,” Dan said.

“You’re not going to tell anyone about this, right?”   
  
“Hmmm?”   
  
“No one can know about this,” Andrew said, his voice steely cold, so different from his hands. 

“Of course not,” Dan said quietly. Who did he have to tell? 

(He could call and tell Phil.)

“Scouts honor,” Dan said, pressing two fingers against his forehead after accidentally stabbing his eye on the first try.

“Good. I. Uh, see you around...or whatever,” Andrew mumbled as he turned and walked back, swaying slightly, towards the house. He didn’t turn back. Dan wasn’t even sure he wanted him to, to be honest.

Dan let himself lower to the ground and he pulled out his phone. He squinted at the clock. It was late. It was late and he wanted to talk to Phil. Phil always made him feel better. He turned on his phone (empty of messages) and scrolled through his contacts until he saw Phil’s name and he hit ‘Call’. 

He pressed the phone up against his ear and listened to the dial tone. 

“Mello? Hello? Dan? Dan, are you there?”   
  
“Yeah,” Dan finally breathed out. “Yeah, ‘m here.”   
  
“Are you okay?”   
  
“Yes….no.”   
  
“What’s wrong?” Phil sounded concerned and Dan wished this was a Skype call, wished he could see Phil and all his lovely pixelated parts. Wished he was back at Sheffield, curled up around Phil in Phil’s tiny bed. Wished he was anywhere but down the side of someone’s house with jizz cooling on his pants.   
  
Dan swallowed. “I...I just. I wanted to tell you something. It’s important.”

“What is it Dan? Are you okay?”

“I like you. I’m like you.”

The line was quiet, so quiet that Dan pulled the phone away to make sure they were still connected. Satisfied he hadn’t dropped a call, Dan continued, looking around as he whispered into the phone, flying high on liquid courage. 

“I...I like kissing boys too.”   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I have an exciting announcement! In order to celebrate both 5,000 hits and 100,000 words, I’m have a little contest for this fic. Link to the contest information can be found[here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/post/636490027463016448). So far I have received three absolutely adorable entries and I can’t wait to see more! 
> 
> Thank you profusely for helping me hit these milestones; none of it would be possible without readers like you. <3 <3
> 
> so, my beta [counting2fifteen aka lou](https://counting2fifteen.tumblr.com) created an absolutely gorgeous spotify playlist for this fic, which can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5J1Dx4ce5s1J4GunGqL9zt?si=H_5A-K9ESzis7bhi3bzrUg). 
> 
> you guys should come and talk to me on my tumblr [here](https://filisaceaf.tumblr.com/). i swear i don't bite!


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